The Legacy of Frankenstein
by Ken Bennet
Summary: A modern-day follow-up to the classic Universal Studios monster movies from the '30s and '40s, starring the great-grandson of Lawrence Talbot.
1. Chapter 1

FOREWORD

This is the first in an ongoing series of stories based on the old horror movies produced by Universal Studios in the Nineteen Thirties and Forties. These stories are set in the Present and will mostly feature second generation monsters and creatures. In this story, for example, the Frankenstein Monster is the only character from the old films to appear in the present day. A few others - such as the Wolf Man, Lawrence Talbot – appear in flashback sequences.

This first story draws on a series of eight films for its background history. Those films are, in order, _Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Son of Frankenstein, The Wolf Man, The Ghost of Frankenstein, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, House of Frankenstein, _and _House of Dracula_. The assorted screenwriters involved with those films tried to keep a certain continuity from one film to the next, but were not as concerned with details as sequel-conscious writers are today. As a result the continuity between films is often very fluid. In order to maintain a more coherent storyline I have revised some of the original films with an eye to tightening up the continuity. Any changes I have made to the original films are mentioned in the story as they become relevant.

As an example, some endings were rewritten so that the Wolf Man does not actually _die_ in every film. The Frankenstein Monster's medical history also required some revision. If you follow the films he goes from being mute to learning to talk and back to being mute. He then gets a new brain and becomes able to speak, but goes blind. In the next film he is mute and able to see, as if the operation in the previous film never occurred. It took a fair amount of mental maneuvering to reconcile all of that, but I think the end result makes sense and stays true to the spirit of the films.

For the physical appearances of the Monster and the Wolf Man, I have stayed fairly true to the films, with a couple of modifications. For the Monster I have stated his size as being closer to that specified by Mary Shelley in her novel. The Wolf Man, being a descendant of the original, would not be identical to the Lon Chaney Jr. portrayal. I imagine him to be somewhere between the classic Jack Pierce makeup and that created by Rick Baker for the recent remake of the film.

As I wrote the story I would visualize certain actors portraying some of the various characters that I created. If this story were to be filmed my dream cast list would look like this:

Eve Carlton – Summer Glau

Marcus Talbot – I kept hearing Russell Crowe's voice in my head as I wrote him, but he would have to be about half his current age.

Katerina – Kate Jackson

Bette Parker – Alexis Bledel

Dr. Richard Carlton – John Savage

Konrad Frankenstein – Alan Rickman

One last note. My portrayal of the Romany people is pure fiction. The Gypsies, as they appear in this story, are based largely on their appearances in the old movies, in particular _The Wolf Man_ and the Charles Laughton version of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. Other details and characteristics come from my own knowledge of neo-paganism and my imagination.

So sit back, relax, maybe turn the lights down and light some candles, and enjoy.

Disclaimer

This story is a work of fan fiction and utilizes characters and situations copyrighted by numerous people and corporations. I do not own any of the copyrights involved and have written this story strictly for entertainment purposes. The town of Seacrest and any characters created specifically for this story are my property and may not be used without my express permission. Any persons wishing to distribute this story to other fan fiction sites may only do so with my permission.

...

**The Legacy of Frankenstein**

_Prologue_

_Vasaria, Switzerland_

_1949_

Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. Two axioms that had been proven true time and again throughout human history. But the greatest horrors were spawned when the two came to pass at the same time. Peter Gillespie knew this to be true. After all, he held the proof in his hands.

Gillespie had come to Vasaria in search of a myth. He sought to prove or disprove the existence of the legendary Frankenstein Monster. All he'd been able to collect so far was anecdotal evidence, tales and stories, and an interview with one old woman who claimed to have been kidnapped by the Monster when she was a little girl. Then he hit the mother lode in a burnt-out ruin of an old mansion that had once belonged to a Doctor Gustav Niemann.

According to the local legends Niemann had been obsessed with Frankenstein's work, even going so far as to perform his own twisted experiments. His mad career came to an end when he discovered and revived the Monster itself. The villagers stormed the manor in an angry mob, setting fire to the building and injuring Niemann. The Monster escaped, carrying Niemann with him, and was chased into the nearby forest, where he and the madman sank from sight into a quicksand bog.

Over the decades since the locals had avoided the remains of Niemann's mansion as being haunted, but that reputation didn't deter Gillespie. On the contrary, it was in the hope of finding some solid proof of the events leading to Dr. Niemann's death that he began searching through the ruins. And among the burnt remains of a desk in what was probably the study he found a metal strongbox containing all the proof he could ask for.

Breaking the lock he discovered several handwritten books inside. The first was a journal written by Doctor Baron Heinrich Frankenstein. The others were notebooks detailing medical experiments and procedures performed by his sons Wolf and Ludwig. The books described in exacting detail how the Frankenstein Monster was created. After reading the volumes it became clear to Gillespie that any sufficiently skilled surgeon could use these books to recreate Frankenstein's experiment, a thought that filled him with horror. If he, a librarian with no medical knowledge, could feel the temptation to try just that, then what would someone who actually understood the science involved feel?

Going over his research notes Gillespie realized that Dr. Niemann was not the first to find and use the Frankenstein journals. There had been others over the decades since the Monster was first brought to life. All had succumbed to temptation and become obsessed with the monster and its power. All had brought nothing but death and suffering to themselves and those around them. He could not, in good conscience, allow that curse to continue.

And yet there was much in the journals that could prove beneficial if the knowledge were to be applied carefully and conscientiously. He did not have the right to deny the world that possibility. And so Peter Gillespie purchased a small, iron-bound, oak chest, locked the curse of the Frankensteins inside it, and sailed home to Boston. Under the light of a full moon he swore an oath to never reveal the contents of that chest so long as he lived. And to seal his vow he cast the only key to the chest into the moonlit waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

...

_A Forest Near Vasaria_

_4 Years Ago_

"This looks like as good a campsite as any," Kate Willingham called over her shoulder to her fiance. "Your turn to set up the tent. I'll get a fire going."

"Sounds good to me," Marcus replied, dropping his pack and looking around the area while stretching out some kinked muscles.

Fifteen minutes later the tent was up and secure and he was watching with an amused grin as Kate grumbled and cursed at the fire pit. "Problem?" he asked.

"The wood around here is damp. I can't get it to burn at all," Kate grumped.

Marcus knelt beside his pack and came up with a collapsible shovel. "Looks like an old peat bog over that way. There will be plenty of good fuel there."

A short while later a stack of dry peat moss lay beside a roaring fire. Kate prepared some vegetables for roasting on the coals while Marcus studied a map of the region. "So, man of mine, how far is it to Goldstadt?"

"Depends. If we can get to the main road and hitch a ride right away, we can be in Goldstadt by tomorrow evening. If we go overland we're looking at a three day hike through some very picturesque countryside. Hmm, that's interesting."

"What is?"

"That farmer we got the vegetables from made a few notations on the map. This valley is marked as being haunted."

"Well then," Kate replied, picking up the shovel, "I guess I'd better get some more fuel for the fire to keep the ghosts and goblins away".

Marcus looked up from the map and smiled in admiration of the view as Kate walked to the peat bog. After three years he still couldn't believe how she could take his breath away. Offering up a playful wolf whistle he watched her for a few more moments before turning his attention back to the map.

Kneeling down, Kate started cutting some more peat for the fire. As she lifted the the dry moss out she felt some resistance. _Must be a tree root in there._ Working with the shovel she got the moss turf loose and fell back in open mouthed shock at what she saw under it. "M-m-Marcus? I think I know why this valley is supposed to be haunted."

Quickly moving to Kate's side, Marcus made sure that she was alright before following her gaze. He felt a fist of ice clench around his heart at the sight before him.

...

Twigs and branches tore at his hair and clothes, scratched his face as he ran blindly through the woods, terror and blind panic driving him on. Was _it_ following him? _Don't stop, don't look back, _it_ might be there. Kate! Where was Kate? _Its_ hands on her, the light fading from her beautiful eyes, Oh God,Kate!_

_..._

_Life was good,_ Karel reflected, _and yet..._ and yet the entire clan had been on edge for the last day or so, for no discernible reason. The wise woman had been having strange dreams for a week now, dreams that had led them to camp in this forsaken place. As he knelt to tend the fire, the sound of something moving in the brush caught his attention.

Picking up the rifle he carried in case of wild animals he moved warily in the direction of the sound only to collide with something that came charging out of the woods, knocking both of them to the ground. Quickly untangling himself from his assailant and getting to his feet, Karel brought the gun to bear on the creature that had hit him. On seeing the dishevelled figure of a barely conscious man lying there he called out for help.

"What's going on Karel? What are you shouting for?" a woman's voice answered.

"A stranger came running out of the woods Katerina. He looks like he's hurt," he responded.

The wise woman knelt beside the stranger, examining him. "I don't see any serious injuries, but he is feverish. Help me get him to my trailer Karel. And then tell the others that we are to break camp immediately".


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1_

_Seacrest, Massachusetts_

_Present Day_

Eve Carlton was becoming more and more agitated as she walked across the campus of Seacrest College to her dorm. Professor Whittaker was a moron. Or senile. Maybe both, a senile moron. Just because the man was tenured _and_ nine days older than God did not give him the right to belittle students' opinions on the literary works he was _supposed _to be teaching them about. And when you combined his colossal ego with his antiquated and chauvinistic ideas about the role of women in society his classroom became an extreme test of patience for any female student. Today it had been Eve's turn to be on the receiving end of one of his vitriolic diatribes. As she cut across the Common area, past the athletics field she heard a voice call out to her, "Hey Eve! Wait up!"

Recognizing the speaker as he jogged up to her Eve rolled her eyes in exasperation, _Great. Just great. Can this day get any worse?_ Aloud she simply asked "What do you want Burt?"

"I wanted to take you to the big pep rally tomorrow night. It'll be a blast. Who knows? Maybe you could give me a little extra inspiration for the game against Harvard on Saturday. Come on, how about it?"

"Sorry Burt, but I'm not interested in jocks or sports at all."

"Yeah, right. That's why you were so hot and heavy with Mike Parks last year. Because you're not into jocks."

"First of all, Mike is an athlete, not a jock. There is a difference, not that _you_ could tell me what it is. Secondly, you would stand a far better chance with me if you were able to hold a coherent conversation on a topic other than yourself, football, or sex. Now if you will excuse me, I've been having a really bad day and you're just making it worse. All I want to do is go back to my dorm and try to salvage a term paper for my Literature class."

"Bad day huh? I'll bet I could make it better," Burt said as he braced one brawny arm against the wall, blocking Eve's path.

"Only if you leave me alone."

"You skirts are all the same. You say no to protect your lily-white reps, but deep down you all want a taste of the bad boys, don't you?" Burt put his free hand on the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. Eve struggled to break his grip.

"No! Stop! Let go of m..." Eve's protests were muffled as he forcibly pressed his lips against hers.

Burt suddenly gasped and broke off as an impressively strong hand came from behind him and grasped his collar bone painfully. "When a lady says _No_, that's when a gentleman backs off," growled a husky male voice with a cultured British accent.

Yelling something incoherent, Burt threw a punch at the stranger only to find himself pinned against the wall in an arm lock with a forearm across the back of his neck pressing his face into the bricks. "You have three options," the stranger said. "First, the young lady can call Campus Security and press charges of Sexual Assault, which will make a mess of your football career and your sex life. Second, I can break your arm in such a way that you will never play football again. Third, you apologize to the lady, walk away, and never bother her again. You've got thirty seconds to decide."

Burt mumbled something that sounded like "I'm sorry" and staggered off-balance as the stranger pulled him off the wall and shoved him on his way. He took off at a dead run and didn't look back.

Kneeling to pick up the book bag that Eve had dropped, the stranger dusted it off and handed it back to her. "Are you going to be all right, miss?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so. I'm just feeling a little shaky right now. I don't even want to think about what might have happened if you hadn't come along when you did," Eve replied.

"If you'd like, I could walk you to wherever you're going. Or perhaps you'd rather go someplace to sit and catch your breath so to speak. Maybe over a cup of coffee or something."

"I think... yes, I think I'd like that. There's the coffee shop just on the other side of the Common, we can sit there for a little bit. By the way, what should I call my gallant knight?"

"I'm no knight, although I may be able to lay claim to an old estate in Wales. My name is Marcus Talbot."

"I'm Eve Carlton," she responded, taking his arm in hers. "It's a pleasure to meet you Marcus."

...

Eve watched Marcus appreciatively from their table as he carried their orders back from the service counter. In his early to mid twenties, he was tall, easily six foot three, and well built, but not in a body-builder kind of way. His dark hair framed a strong, handsome face and something in his piercing grey eyes hinted at hidden depths of old pain and sorrow.

"Here you go, one large coffee with cream and sugar." Marcus sat down with their coffees, handing one to Eve. "I must say it's a refreshing change to meet someone who actually drinks real coffee and not all these trendy cappu-espresso-mochas with extra foam and whatever else they do to coffee these days."

"I take it you don't like the assorted gourmet varieties?"

"What gave you that idea" Marcus smiled at Eve. "Some things I just prefer plain and simple. Like coffee. How about you?"

"I'll admit to a certain fondness for mochas and cappuccinos once in a while, but right now I really feel the need for a shot of good old fashioned caffeine. Either that or a really stiff drink, but it's a little too early in the day for that."

"If you need a drink I"m sure it's five o'clock somewhere in the world."

"No, I've got a term paper to get fixed up for Old Man Whittaker's Literature class and I want a clear head for that. He's already got it in for me and I don't want to give him any grounds to fail me."

"What's he got against you to make the course so tough?'

"I'm female. So as far as he's concerned women don't need an education because we should be home taking care of our men and making babies. It also doesn't help that my IQ is about thirty points higher than his and I have an eidetic memory."

"I'll bet that frosts him to no end," Marcus empathized.

"You have no idea. Today he held up the draft of my paper that I had handed in and started shredding everything I had written. He read a passage I had quoted from the book I'm working on and accused me of misquoting it, saying that if I couldn't even copy a simple passage accurately maybe I should be taking Remedial Writing with the football players. I walked up to the front of the class, took his copy of the book from his desk and read the relevant passage out of it word for word exactly as I had written it out. He turned three shades of purple, crumpled my draft up into a little ball, and told me to start over and that the paper was still due on Monday with all the others."

"And today's Thursday. I can see how that would pretty much kill your weekend. It perplexes me how a jerk like that keeps his job."

"Tenure. The Old Boys Club. He's in for life and can do no wrong. It's not fair, but that's the way things work," Eve vented.

"So what book are you working on?" enquired Marcus.

Eve replied, "_The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. We were given our choice of the assorted works of Victor Hugo and there's something about the characters of Quasimodo and Esmeralda that just sort of gets to me."

"I've read it. I found it rather depressing compared to the various films that have been adapted from it."

"That's certainly true enough. Well the coffee's finished and I really should be getting back to my dorm and working on that paper. Um, does that offer to walk me home still stand?" Eve asked with a small smile.

...

Marcus was still smiling when he unlocked the door to his apartment. He had enjoyed talking with Eve as he accompanied her back to her dorm and that had surprised him. He stopped his musing when he saw that the message light on his phone was flashing. He pressed the playback button and listened to the voice of a stranger speak with a faint Germanic accent.

"Good afternoon Mr. Talbot. It has come to my attention that you are a collector of rare books. I am hoping that you may be of some assistance to me. I am trying to locate a number of journals written by some of my ancestors. I should like very much to find these journals in order to complete my family's archives. If you have come across such volumes or know of another collector or dealer who might have knowledge of them please let me know. You may call me at 555-8663. Thank you very much for your time."

_What the hell?_ thought Marcus. _ There's only one set of journals I know of that might generate that kind of interest, but I need to find them if I'm going to accomplish my mission. I can't let him get them before I do. Once I'm finished he can have them, if I don't destroy them first. Those accursed volumes have caused far too much misery and suffering over the years. _Still brooding over the phone message left by the mysterious stranger, Marcus went through the motions of eating supper and getting ready for bed.

...

_He was walking in a sunny meadow, hand in hand with Kate. He took both of her hands in his and and gazed lovingly into her beautiful blue eyes, just basking in the love she also felt for him. As he looked, her eyes changed colour to a sparkling hazel, Eve Carlton's eyes. He took a step back and Kate was gone, Eve standing in her place. She smiled and beckoned him to her. He moved towards her and a shadow fell over them both. Turning to face the shadow, it was suddenly night time. The shadow moved and he could see it clearly in the moonlight. Corpse-cold flesh clad in tattered, too small clothing. Dead black eyes filled with malice and hatred for all that lived. It raised one massive fist to smash the life out of him but Eve stepped in front of it and the creature slowly lowered its hand. She looked up into its eyes and gently caressed the Monster's cheek with one of her small hands. It smiled and embraced her. She gasped in pain as it squeezed too tightly, crushing the life from her with a sickening _snap_ of her spine._

Marcus sat bolt upright in his bed, cold sweat soaking his sheets. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he realized there wasn't much point in trying to go back to sleep and trudged toward the shower to start his day.

Eve dreamed she was sitting by a fireplace with a huge wolfhound by her side. As she reached down to scratch the dog's ears it gazed lovingly up at her with Marcus Talbot's eyes.

...

Eve sat in the campus dining hall staring at her laptop while absently nibbling on the french fries she had ordered for lunch. Her musings were interrupted by a voice asking, "Is this seat taken?"

Looking up, she recognized the speaker, "Marcus! What a pleasant surprise. Please sit." She closed her laptop, "I've just been struggling with that Literature paper I was telling you about. I seem to be suffering a bit of a writer's block on the subject I'm afraid."

"Well then, a change of topic should be just what you need to get the creative juices flowing again," Marcus replied, setting his tray down and pulling up a chair. "So how are you feeling today? No lingering problems from yesterday's incident I hope?"

"Oh no, no problems of any sort, well, there was this funny sort of dream last night, but it didn't really have anything to do with Burt and his testosterone," she responded. "I was petting this really big, fierce-looking dog that had your eyes."

"A dog with... that's an interesting image," Marcus mused.

"Yeah. Well no one ever said dreams had to make sense," Eve retorted. "So what do you have coming up next?"

"A lecture on Abnormal Psychology. Nothing like something mindless to start off the weekend," he replied with just a touch of sarcasm. "Speaking of which, do you have any plans?"

"The same as every weekend. My last class wraps up and I hop in the car and head home to spend the weekend with my father."

"Ah well. There's no competing with something like that. I was kind of hoping you'd like to do something together, just you and me."

"Marcus, are you asking me on a date?"

"Well it has been a long time since I asked a girl out, on a first date at least."

"How long?"

"About seven years. The first date turned into going steady, then an engagement," Marcus answered.

"You're engaged?" Eve asked.

"Not anymore," he replied sorrowfully, "She died."

"I'm so sorry. So tragic."

"Yes, well that was four years ago."

"If it's any consolation," Eve responded, "I know what it feels like to lose someone."

"Who did you lose?" Marcus asked with sincerity in his voice.

"My mother. And myself."

"That's rough." Marcus paused. "How did you lose yourself?"

"It's a bit of a long story," Eve said, "My folks split up when my mom was pregnant, so I grew up with her in California. About six years ago our house was obliterated in a landslide. Mom was killed outright and I was pretty much... well, mangled, not to put too fine a point on it. If it wasn't for my dad I would have died too."

"What did he do?"

"My father is Dr. Richard Carlton, probably the foremost transplant surgeon in the world. He put me back together. Literally." Eve rolled up her sleeve, revealing a jagged scar circling her right arm a few inches above the elbow. "That's where my arm was reattached. I've got a whole road-map of those all over the place. Let's just say that no one's ever going to see me in a swimsuit and leave it at that."

"Ouch. So how does that relate to losing yourself?"

"Multiple skull fractures. I've actually got a couple of steel plates holding my head together. Between all the surgeries and the brain trauma I was comatose for months. When I finally woke up I had no memory whatsoever. Tabula rasa, a complete blank. It's been five years and there's no sign of any memories returning at all," Eve finished sadly.

"And so here we sit bonding over pain and loss," Marcus commented. "I was sort of hoping for something a little more upbeat."

"I'm not exactly the type to drown in my sorrows either. Do you like movies?" Eve asked.

"It depends on the movie... and the company," was his response.

"Well, the Campus Cinematic Society hosts Theme nights on a regular basis and next Tuesday is Buster Keaton Night. How does that sound for a first date?" Eve wondered.

"Keaton sounds like a great first date," Marcus replied. "Say about six o'clock? We could get something to eat first."

"Six it is then," Eve agreed. "That wasn't so hard now was it? All we had to do was dredge up our deepest darkest pains."

...

_Our deepest darkest pains, she says,_ Marcus thought as he walked through the streets of downtown Seacrest. _She has no idea what kind of darkness I deal with._ He paused outside a small shop whose painted window proclaimed it to be _The Gypsy's Caravan – New Age – Metaphysics – Magick_. He opened the door and walked inside.

"Blessed be," greeted a woman's voice from within the shop. "How may I help... Marcus! I wasn't expecting you today. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"A couple of things that may or may not be related Katerina. The first is a disturbing telephone message I received yesterday." Marcus described the stranger's message in detail.

"And you think he's after _the_ journals?"

"What else could it be? He was very specific about old family journals, he spoke with a Germanic accent, and he's checking book dealers and collectors in this area. But I thought the family had died out."

"The titled branch of the family is gone," Katerina clarified, "But there are a few distant cousins in existence. This man may be one of them, or he may not be related at all. There have been others who have succumbed to the curse those journals carry. Your own family history tells you that much. Now what is the second thing?"

"I may have discovered who has the journals," Marcus stated.

Katerina dropped the figurine she was dusting, "How and who?"

Marcus smiled, "By accident really. I, um, met this girl. We talked and it turns out that her father is a world-class transplant surgeon. Apparently he literally put her back together after a horrific accident."

"A girl, eh. Is she pretty?"

"That has nothing to do with it," Marcus retorted.

"So she's pretty. Give me your hand," Katerina demanded.

Marcus grudgingly obliged her. Holding his hand in hers, Katerina lightly traced the lines of his palm with her nails. "I see that your damaged heart is beginning to heal. You enjoy being with this girl, but you feel guilty afterwards because for a few moments you forget to torture yourself with the memory of your lost beloved Kate."

Marcus jerked his hand away angrily. "Don't dictate my feelings to me! I can never have something with her or anyone else and you damned well know why."

"Yes, I know," Katerina said, "After all, I was there."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 2_

_Switzerland near the German Border_

_4 Years Ago_

Marcus awakened, disoriented by the strange surroundings. As the memory of what happened came crashing back he sat bolt upright in panic. Gentle hands grasped his shoulders and a kind voice spoke, "Calm, my son, calm. You are safe now. Nothing can hurt you here."

"Where... where am I?" Marcus wanted to know.

"In my trailer, on the road out of Vasaria," the woman replied, "My name is Katerina. I am the wise woman of this clan."

"You're gypsies?"

"Yes," Katerina confirmed, "Now, I want you to drink this tea. You've had a tremendous shock of some sort and this will help calm you. Then I want you to tell me what it is that has left you in such a state."

The tea had a sweet, slightly fruity flavour and when he had finished the cup Marcus was mildly surprised to find that he did indeed feel much calmer than before. He began to speak quietly, "My fiancee, Kate, and I were on a backpacking trip to see as much of the Continent as we could before our wedding next fall. We had bought some vegetables from a farmer outside of Vasaria and got directions to the town of Goldstadt. We camped in a wooded valley for the night and were trying to get a fire going, but all the wood we could find was too damp. I noticed what looked like an old peat bog and dug up some dry moss for fuel. I saw that the farmer had marked on our map that the valley we were in was supposed to be haunted. Kate went to dig up some more peat for the fire. She uncovered something... something horrible. Probably the reason the valley was haunted."

"What did she find?" Katerina asked, dreading the answer she somehow knew was coming.

"The Frankenstein Monster."

...

_Seacrest, Massachusetts_

_Present Day_

He walked through the woods above Seacrest with barely a sign to show his passage, his great size and seeming awkwardness at odds with the near total silence in which he moved. A sound caught his attention. Following it to its source, he watched a young couple locked in a passionate embrace. A low moan escaped his throat as he took a step forward. The startled couple looked up at him with sheer terror in their eyes. The boy grabbed up a fallen tree branch and brandished it threateningly, "You better back off, I'll bust you up if you don't."

As he stepped forward the boy aimed an awkward swing at him. He caught the boy's wrist easily and crushed the bones with a single squeeze. Slamming his fist down on the boy's head with a sickening crunch, he casually tossed the limp body aside. The girl began screaming as he turned towards her, screams that were cut off sharply when he got his hands on her. Leaving the bodies where they lay, he walked to the edge of the woods and looked out over the town below. The Frankenstein Monster had come to Seacrest.

...

_Gypsy Campsite near Vasaria_

_4 Years Ago_

Katerina shut down her cell phone. "I've notified the Chief Constable in Vasaria where to find your fiancee's body. He'll take care of everything."

"Will I have to testify or something?"

"No," Katerina replied. "I told him everything as you told me, and he will "reconstruct" the rest. The official story will be that Miss Willingham was killed by an unidentified vagrant. He does not want to cause panic among the local populace."

"It must be handy to have someone that sympathetic to you among the police."

"Being Romany is not the stigma it once was. Besides, his mother is my sister," Katerina smiled.

"So what do we do about the Monster?" Marcus wanted to know.

"_We_ do nothing", she answered firmly. "_You_ go home and _I_ get my people far away from here as quickly as possible."

"That's not good enough," Marcus was adamant. "_I_ helped wake this thing up and the first thing it did was kill Kate, just because it could. _I'm_ responsible for everything it does from now on. _I_ took it out of the ground, _I_ have to put it back there."

"You have no idea what you're talking about boy!" Katerina shot back. "This is no mortal man to be imprisoned or killed. It is an unnatural creation brought to life by a madman's desire to play God. The Monster cannot die and it cannot be destroyed by any natural means. Many have tried. Most died in the process."

"There's no _natural_ way to destroy it?" Marcus said calmly, a strange light in his eyes. "What about _un_natural ways, or perhaps _super_natural? What about a werewolf?"

"A were... you're insane." Katerina was shocked almost speechless. "First of all, a werewolf is a savage beast that kills everything in its path. It is even more uncontrollable than the Monster. Secondly, they do not exactly advertise their presence. Actually finding a true werewolf would be next to impossible."

"Yes, but if we knew where to find one, would it be strong enough to kill the Monster?" Marcus pressed.

"Yes... yes it might be able to. But the point is completely moot. In all my life, I have only ever heard of two actual werewolves and they are both long dead."

"Would one of them be a gypsy named Bela and the other an Englishman named Lawrence Talbot?"

"How do you know those names?" Katerina asked quietly, with a dangerous edge to her voice.

"My name is Marcus Talbot. Lawrence Talbot was my great-grandfather."

...

_Woods Above Seacrest, Massachusetts_

_Present Day_

He could feel it somewhere ahead of him, that which had drawn him here across the ocean from the lands of his "birth". From his vantage point near the edge of the woods the Monster could see the many dwellings of men, far more than he was accustomed to dealing with. He would have to take care not to be seen. While they could not truly hurt him, he could still be imprisoned or otherwise hindered in his quest. Soon he would have that which he sought. Soon the promise made to him by Frankenstein and Pretorius so many years ago would be fulfilled. Soon he would no longer be alone.

...

_Gypsy Campsite near Vasaria_

_4 Years Ago_

"You know, of course what kind of Hell you will go through if you do this." Several days had passed since Marcus' query about werewolves and Katerina needed to try one last time to dissuade him from his plan.

"I've read my Great Grandfather's journals," he replied. "I know the torment and anguish he went through every month, knowing that an innocent person would die if he ever got loose. I know what I'm doing Katerina. You said it yourself, Lawrence Talbot never broke the curse of the werewolf. The blood of the Wolf Man runs in my veins and I need you to wake up the beast within me. It's the only way I can become strong enough to destroy Frankenstein's Monster."

"Very well then Marcus, I will do this on two conditions... and these are NOT subject to negotiation. First, there will be a link between us, so that if you transform in my presence the wolf will remain calm and not go on a killing spree. This means, of course, that I must go with you on your quest as your caretaker, as Maleva was caretaker to Bela and Lawrence. Second, you said that Lawrence found a cure of sorts. When your quest is complete and you have killed the Monster, you will have one year to find a similar cure for yourself. If you are not able to do so..." Marcus gulped as Katerina produced a small dagger from nowhere and pressed the tip to his throat. "If you cannot find a cure then I will drive this silver blade through your heart myself. If you are responsible for any murders the Monster commits, then _I_ am equally responsible for any deaths caused by the wolf within you. And I take my responsibilities _very_ seriously. Those are my terms, take them or leave now."

She removed the blade from his throat and Marcus dabbed at the trickle of blood where she had broken the skin. He looked Katerina straight in the eye and calmly said, "I accept."


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 3_

_Dr. Richard Carlton's Home_

_Seacrest, Massachusetts_

_Present Day_

Eve was greeted by strains of Wagnerian opera mixed with cigar smoke as soon as she walked in the front door. Entering her father's study, she suppressed a smile and said, "You know what Dr. Wilkes says about those things and your heart."

Dr. Richard Carlton smiled at his daughter's loving rebuke. "One celebratory cigar is not going to kill me Eve." He leaned back in his chair and continued, "You know my little rituals. Good brandy, a fine cigar, and Wagner's music to celebrate a successful new procedure. Care to join me?" He gestured to the decanter and glasses on the desk.

"Sure, I'll have a brandy." She poured herself some and swirled the amber liquid around in the glass, warming it in her hand before taking a sip. "Mmm, that's a few steps up from simply _good_ brandy. I'm guessing that's a Cuban cigar? It must be a major celebration."

"The finest Havana available," Carlton said, taking a long draw on it and blowing a series of smoke rings. "And the first successful human eye transplant."

"But I thought eye transplants were commonplace," Eve commented, savouring her brandy.

"Cornea transplants are common. That's the clear bubble that covers and protects the visible part of the eye. I'm talking about a full eye transplant reconnecting the optic nerve, which has never been done before. I performed the actual surgery last week, but the bandages just came off today. The patient's vision is a little blurry, but he can see out of both eyes instead of having one eye and a prosthesis."

"So a major milestone, not just in transplants, but in neurosurgery as well. Don't you ever worry about your colleagues getting jealous of your constant success?"

"Not especially," Carlton replied. "If they haven't the imagination or daring to step outside the box that's their problem, not mine. Now, how does dinner at the Gallery sound?"

"It sounds wonderful, but I should really get to work on this Literature paper that's due on Monday." Eve related the incident in her Literature class the day before.

"Whittaker's still terrorizing his students, eh? Some of my fraternity brothers told us horror stories about his classes."

"Yeah, well I've still got to make this deadline," Eve complained.

"Of course you do," Carlton agreed with his daughter. "But sometimes taking a break and coming back with a fresh perspective makes the job easier. So, dinner at the Gallery?"

"Sure, but _I_ choose the wine this time."

"Deal. And over dessert you can tell me all about this young man who has you so tied up in knots."

"What exactly makes you think this has anything to do with a young man?" Eve challenged.

"Eve, the only time I've seen you unable to focus on a simple paper was when Michael left for Montana last year," he observed.

Eve sighed in defeat, "His name is Marcus and I only just met him yesterday."

...

_Downtown Seacrest_

Marcus staggered a little as he left Mason's Tavern. The watering hole wasn't a favourite with the college crowd, but he liked it in spite of, or perhaps because of, that fact. Tonight in particular he didn't want to talk to anybody he knew. It had been four years since that horrific night near Vasaria when his life had changed irrevocably. He had spent most of the evening brooding over a bottle of single malt scotch and had reached an important and frightening conclusion. Katerina was right, he did like Eve. He liked her a lot. But after the choice he had made in Katerina's camp it was a practical impossibility for him to have any kind of a relationship beyond a one-night stand, and Eve deserved far better than that.

Looking up at the Moon whose cycles had come to dominate his life, he noted the current phase. _Fourth quarter, good. I've got three weeks still until the next Full Moon._ He was so engrossed in his scotch-fogged ruminations, Marcus failed to notice the shadowy figures approaching until one of them stopped right in front of him. "Going somewhere tough guy?" the stranger challenged.

Startled back to the present, Marcus recognized the football player he had pulled off of Eve the day before. Looking around he realized the jock had brought some friends for back-up. He was surrounded by six athletic looking young men armed with a variety of improvised weapons ranging from tire irons to chains. "Six of you," Marcus could feel the adrenaline flush the alcohol from his system, "I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted."

"What about dead?" The ringleader pulled a gun from his pocket and fired. Marcus felt the bullet burn its way into his chest. Looking down he could see the blood stain spreading across his shirt. "You fools," he gasped as he fell to his hands and knees.

The assembled toughs started yelling at once, "Dude! You said you just wanted to mess him up a little!"

"What the hell, man!"

"Burt are you insane!?"

Burt raised the gun again, "The jerk had it coming. Anyone wanna argue the point..." He was interrupted by a bestial growl coming from where Marcus had fallen. They watched in shock as the _thing_ that had been Marcus rose to its feet and stalked towards them. Two of the gang nervously brandished their tire irons at the Beast. It lashed out with its clawed arms and tore their throats out. A backhand slash disemboweled a third. The fourth was dispatched with equal ease. Burt finally remembered that he had a gun and started firing wildly at the Beast. The first few bullets struck it in the chest, spinning it around so that the next two shots hit the last of the gang, killing him instantly.

Truly enraged now, the Beast snatched the gun from Burt's hand and crushed it in its inhumanly strong grip. Burt turned and ran as if the Devil was on his heels. With a spine-chilling howl the _thing_ that had been Marcus Talbot leapt on its prey, knocking him to the ground. Burt's screams were cut off as powerful claws and teeth savaged his body. As he died, the Beast howled its rage to the Moon. The Wolf Man had claimed his territory in Seacrest.

...

Detective Inspector MacArthur "Mac" Garvey hated weekends, especially weekend mornings. Most cops dreaded the Friday and Saturday evenings because that's when most of the violent crimes occurred. The mornings after were when the worst of those messes got dumped on Garvey's desk in the expectation that he would deal with them. The only difference between this Saturday morning and most was that this time he was getting the case first hand. _At least I won't have to decipher someone else's notes_ he mused as he pulled up to the crime scene, a vacant lot just off the college campus. Taking a long swallow of the coffee he had bought on the way he got out of his car and walked to the area cordoned off by yellow tape.

Garvey was just about to duck under the tape line when the sound of tires crunching on gravel caught his attention. Turning to the car that had just pulled up he felt every one of his fifty years as a man at least twenty years his junior got out and sauntered up to him. "Hey Mac," the younger man greeted, "So what have we got?"

Garvey nodded to his partner, Detective Sergeant Al Simms. "I got the same call you did Simms – multiple homicide. I just got here myself so I don't know any more than you do." He lifted the tape and gestured the younger man through.

The two walked up to the uniformed officer on the scene. "So how bad is it?" asked Simms.

"The worst I've seen," answered the uniform, "and I served two tours in Afghanistan. A jogger out for a morning run called it in. After she finished puking in the bushes, that is. That's her over there." He pointed to a young woman wrapped in a blanket and shivering. "She's still in shock so it'll be a while before we can get a coherent statement from her."

"Make sure to get her contact information then and have a squad car take her home," Garvey instructed. "How many bodies are there?"

"Half of the Sentinels' starting lineup. I hope no one had any money riding on today's game."

"Dammit," Simms muttered. "Okay, walk us through."

The officer took a breath to steady himself and said, "The first one's the easiest. Multiple gunshot wounds. Nothing unusual here."

Simms knelt by the body. "Two in the chest and one in the head. Looks like the sort of gang-banger activity I used to see in South Boston."

"Gang-bangers didn't do the rest of these," Garvey observed. "Looks more like a wild animal of some sort. What the hell?"

"What have you got?" asked Simms, walking to where Garvey was kneeling in the grass.

"Looks like the gun. At least it's been fired recently."

"Ballistics will confirm if it was the murder weapon or not."

"I doubt that," Garvey responded. "Take a look, have you ever seen anything like this?" He held the gun up for Simms' inspection.

Simms' jaw dropped in shock. He was looking at what appeared to be a 9mm automatic that had been... _folded_ for lack of a better word. The barrel was bent at such an angle that it looked like a cartoon gun that could shoot around corners. And caught in the centre of it... "What's that in the trigger guard?"

"The shooter's trigger finger," Garvey answered distractedly. He began following a trail in the grass. "Simms, we've got another body over here. And he's got a missing finger."

Simms trotted over to see what his partner had found and promptly wheeled away and lost his breakfast at the sight of what was once a human being. "What... what could possibly do that to a man?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"I don't know," Garvey answered. "But I'm going to find out."

...

Marcus wiped the steam from his bathroom mirror and stared at his bleary-eyed reflection for a few moments before turning his attention to the fully healed bullet wounds on his chest. Bullet wounds that had not been there the day before. He rested his head in his hands trying to calm the pounding between his temples. It took a few moments to register that at least some of the pounding was coming from the direction of his door.

Throwing on a bathrobe he shuffled to the peephole and gazed through. Leaving the safety chain on, he opened the door a crack. "Yes?" he asked the the two men in cheap suits standing there.

"I'm Inspector Garvey, this is Sergeant Simms, Seacrest Police. Are you Marcus Talbot?" the older man asked.

"Yes. What's this about?"

"Just a few questions sir. May we come in?"

"Yeah, sure." Marcus unhooked the chain and opened the door for them. "Just give me a few minutes to get some clothes on."

"Certainly, Mr. Talbot." The detectives looked around the apartment living room while Marcus quickly threw on some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Closing the bedroom door behind him, he went to the kitchen area and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"So why are two of Seacrest's finest banging on my door and aggravating an already bad hangover?" Marcus enquired.

"It's about Burt Raines," Sergeant Simms answered watching Marcus' reaction closely.

"Who?"

"Burt Raines. Star running back for the Seacrest Sentinels. College football?"

"I'm not a big sports fan sergeant. What does this Raines jock have to do with me?" Marcus suppressed a moment of panic. There was no way they could know what _really_ happened the night before.

Garvey held out a photo. "Do you recognize this man, sir?"

"Yeah, he was molesting a young lady the other day. I taught him a lesson in manners as a matter of fact." Marcus stated. "Wait a minute, the young woman called him Burt. Is that Raines?"

"Yes sir, it is. He and five of his team mates were killed last night, most of them by some kind of wild animal it looks like," Garvey informed him.

"So why exactly are you knocking on my door then?"

"Just being thorough. A witness stated that you got into a fight with Raines on Thursday. We just had to check that out. Now sir, where exactly were you last night around 12:30 AM?"

Marcus rolled his eyes and winced as his headache spiked. "I was at Mason's Tavern until about midnight or so. After that, things are kind of... hazy at best."

"Do you always drink yourself into a blackout on the weekends?" Simms queried.

"Not as a rule, no," Marcus shot back. "I tend to make an exception on the anniversary of the day my fiancee was murdered though."

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't know," Garvey apologized. "I was noticing that you have quite the little book collection here. Looks like antique first editions for the most part. Quite impressive."

"Thank you," Marcus accepted. "I've been collecting rare books almost since I first learned to read. The bulk of my collection is back home in England."

"Getting back on topic, Mr. Talbot," Simms persisted, "You're saying that you have no alibi for the time Burt Raines and his friends were killed?"

"I also have no motive Sergeant. If your witness had stuck around to see the entire incident Thursday afternoon, he would have seen Raines run off like a whipped dog with his tail between his legs. I bested the man easily. If anyone had motive to come after someone it would be him coming for me." Marcus was getting irritated with the younger detective.

"As you say sir," Garvey admitted. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. Good day." Marcus closed and locked the apartment door behind the detectives as they left.

Turning on his computer, he was not surprised to see an instant message from Katerina. _What have you done?_ He gathered his thoughts for a moment, trying to recollect as much of the previous night's events as he could. Then he started typing, sending her an abridged version of what he could remember with a promise to go into greater detail in person later. He clicked _send_ and went to the bedroom to collect and dispose of the bloody scraps he had woken up in that morning.

...

"So Mac, what do you think about Talbot?" Simms asked his partner.

"I don't know," Garvey answered thoughtfully. "I'm not certain if he's involved in this mess or not, but I am sure that he's hiding something. Contact Interpol. Find out everything you can about this murdered fiancee he mentioned. Do a full background check on him as well. I want to know everything there is to know about Marcus Talbot."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 4_

_Seacrest College Campus_

Marcus paused outside the door of Eve's dorm and took a few slow, deep breaths to calm himself, then reached out and knocked. The door opened revealing a young woman with short, dyed black hair and wearing a floor-length psychedelic skirt. "Hi, you must be Marcus. Eve said to tell you she's running a little bit late but you're welcome to wait in here. I'm Bette, by the way, Eve's roommate."

Marcus stepped inside and extended his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you Bette." As soon as her hand touched his, Bette gasped. Her eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed and she began convulsing. Marcus caught her as she collapsed and half carried, half dragged her to the nearest bed, laying her across it.

He was just about to call 911 when he heard a voice behind him, "Bette! Oh my God! Marcus, what happened?"

"I don't know. I said hello and she went into convulsions. Is she epileptic or something?"

"Not that I know of. My car's downstairs, we can take her to the hospital in that. It'll be faster than waiting for an ambulance."

"All right," Marcus agreed, "I'll carry her, you get the doors."

...

_Seacrest General Hospital  
_

"Excuse me doctor," Eve asked the physician working in the ER, "But can you tell us how Bette is doing? Bette Parker? We brought her in a couple of hours ago suffering some sort of seizure?"

"Are you family?"

"No, I'm her roommate."

"I'm sorry, but I should really only discuss her condition with her family," the doctor informed her.

"Please, doctor. I know the rules, but her family is out of town and right now I'm all she's got. Please tell me how she is."

The doctor nodded, "We don't know what caused the seizure. She's stabilized right now and we have her sedated. She'll sleep for a while. We would like to keep her overnight for observation."

"Thank you doctor. May we see her now?"

"All right, but just for a few minutes."

Thanking the doctor one more time, Eve and Marcus went in and stood beside the bed, watching Bette sleep. Marcus put his arm around her shoulder and Eve leaned into him. As they stood watch, Bette began tossing and turning, muttering something over and over, "Kater... Katerina... Katerina, help me..."

"What's she saying?" Eve asked, "Katerina? Is that a name?"

"It is," Marcus answered, "I wonder..." He pulled out his cell phone and hesitated. "I should really go outside to use this. Will you be okay with her for a few minutes?"

"Yes, where are you going?"

"To find out if Katerina is who I think she is."

...

Katerina entered the hospital and strode unerringly to the waiting room where Marcus sat with Eve. "Marcus, how is Bette? Do they know what happened?"

"Just that she had some sort of seizure," Marcus replied. "Katerina, this is Eve Carlton, Bette's roommate." Turning to Eve he explained, "Katerina's people and my family go way back."

"I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances Katerina, but it's a pleasure to meet you all the same," Eve offered her hand. "How do you know Bette?"

"She came to me for guidance," Katerina explained. "She is a very gifted young woman."

"Gifted how?" Marcus wanted to know.

"What kind of guidance?" Eve asked at the same time.

"She has the Sight," Katerina answered them both.

"What do you mean _the_ Sight?" Eve was curious.

"It's a Gypsy term. It means she's clairvoyant," Marcus replied. "She probably gets visions when she touches objects... or people." Realization dawned on him.

"Yes," Katerina clarified, "She frequently sees the most important or defining moments in the history of the person or thing she touches. What did she handle right before she seized?"

"Me," Marcus stated. "We had just met and we shook hands. She must have seen..."

"Do I really want to know?" Eve asked.

Marcus let out a deep sigh, "Four years ago I witnessed the murder of my fiancee. It remains one of the most horrific moments of my life."

Eve hugged him tightly, "I'm so sorry Marcus. You told me she had died, but I didn't realize..."

He hugged her back. "It's all right Eve. It's all right. Katerina, is there anything you can do to help Bette?"

"I will do what I can for her. You two don't need to sit in this uncomfortable waiting area. Why don't you go get something to eat and I will find you when I am done."

"That sounds like a plan," Eve agreed. She took Marcus' arm and led him away, "The food in the cafeteria here is actually pretty good."

Katerina walked into Bette's room and sat in a chair beside the bed. Taking one of Bette's hands in her own, she reached over and gently caressed the girl's forehead with the other hand, murmuring a strange, almost musical incantation all the while.

After a few minutes the young woman began to stir. Opening her eyes she saw who was sitting beside her. "Katerina. You came. I wasn't sure if I called you or not or if you heard me at all."

"Shush, child. All is well now. You had a vision didn't you? When you touched Marcus' hand? Something... horrific. And overwhelming."

"I've never seen anything like it in my life," Bette whispered. "I didn't know such... such horrors could be real. I mean they can't be real, can they? What I saw, it had to have been some sort of metaphor right?"

"What did you see child?" Katerina asked gently. "Tell me and I will try to interpret your vision."

Bette shuddered at the memory, "Two monsters were fighting. One was a giant, hideously scarred and deformed. The other was sort of half man, half animal. All covered in fur, with sharp claws and teeth. The ground around them was littered with bones and blood and the bodies of anyone who got near them. Please tell me it's not real. Please."

Katerina was thoughtful for a moment before she spoke, "Marcus seeks revenge on the one who murdered his fiancee four years ago. That quest threatens to destroy him, but there is one who may be able to help him find a path to healing before it is too late."

...

_Abandoned Farm_

_Just East of Seacrest_

A rental car pulled up in front of a dilapidated old farmhouse situated near a bluff overlooking the sea. A dark haired man with an aristocratic bearing and cold eyes got out. Casting a critical eye over the exterior of the house, he walked up to the front door and went inside. After inspecting the house and making various notes, he nodded to himself and went outside to the barn.

Years earlier part of the bluff behind the barn had washed away during a violent storm, leaving the structure perched on the edge of a steep cliff. One of the large barn doors had fallen off its hinges and wedged in a partially open position. Entering, he took a flashlight from his pocket and shone it around the interior. Shadows danced around the barn as he played the light over the old stalls and the loft. What looked at first like a pile of old rags in one of the stalls caught his eye and he bent down to examine it more closely.

Perusing the rags, he recoiled in shock at the sight of what had once been a human being. Choking back the bile rising in his throat, he forced himself to be more clinical in examining the body. Judging by the dirty, ragged clothing the man was probably a vagrant or hobo of some sort. It was the man's injuries that really got his attention. Just about everything looked to be some form of blunt force trauma, but to a degree that should only be possible from having been hit by a bus... repeatedly.

He was so engrossed in his examination he failed to notice the shadow detach itself from a stable stall behind him. A low, almost animal, moan was his only warning that he wasn't alone. Turning quickly, he saw a form straight out of a nightmare. A huge, manlike figure, nearly eight feet tall and barrel-chested, dressed in tattered, too-small clothing. Its hands and face were scarred and battered, the top of its skull was flattened, and its skin had a grayish, almost corpse-like pallor. Perhaps the most jarring detail were the two small bolts attached to either side of its neck, just below the jawline. As the creature advanced on him, he calmly called out a single word.

"Frankenstein."

The Monster stopped and looked at him. Then it spoke, its voice hoarse and dry from disuse, "What... did you... say?"

"You are the creation of Baron Heinrich Frankenstein, are you not?"

The creature nodded, "Who... are... you?"

The man stood up and looked at the Monster with his cold eyes, "My name is Konrad Frankenstein. Your creator was my distant ancestor."

"Why... are you... here... Frankenstein?"

Konrad considered his words, "I was planning to continue Heinrich's work in the hopes of vindicating his name. Your presence here changes things considerably though. I am certain that his journal, as well as the notebooks of his sons Wolf and Ludwig, are here in Seacrest. If I can get my hands on those there will be very little that we cannot accomplish if we work together. What do you say my friend? Shall we join forces?" He held his hand out in a gesture of peace.

The Monster looked at Konrad's hand. "You will... keep their... promise?"

Konrad looked confused, "Whose promise?"

"Frankenstein and... Pretorius. They promised me... a mate... A woman like... me."

"A woman eh?" Konrad mused. "That coincides nicely with what I've been doing. With those journals we could do that, yes. Very well, we get those journals and I promise you will no longer be alone."

The Monster grasped Konrad's hand and the bargain was sealed.

...

_Seacrest General Hospital_

Marcus held Eve's chair while she seated herself at the cafeteria table. Sitting across from her he smiled wryly, "Some first date, huh?'

"Well, it's certainly been eventful," Eve agreed. Raising her glass of juice she added "Here's hoping our second date is less... dramatic."

Marcus raised his own glass to toast, "Less drama." Taking a sip he asked, "So what do you want to try doing for a second date?"

"Well, Buster Keaton is pretty much a bust now. Why don't we just set a time and date, and you surprise me?"

"All right then," he agreed. "I think I can come up with something suitably entertaining."

"Eve?" a new voice interjected. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

She looked up and smiled, "Hi Dad. I'm fine, but my roommate had some sort of seizure. We brought her in and stuck around to see how she was doing. This is Marcus, by the way, the young man I was telling you about last weekend. Marcus, this is my father, Dr. Richard Carlton."

"It's a privilege to meet you sir," Marcus greeted with an odd light in his eye. "Eve has told me a little bit about you."

"The pleasure is mine, Marcus," Carlton responded, grasping Marcus' proffered hand firmly. "And Eve's told me a bit about you as well. Why don't you come to our house for dinner this Saturday? Say seven o'clock?"

"I... I'd be honoured sir," Marcus was surprised by the unexpected invitation. "I'll be there."

Eve just stood by dumbfounded at the exchange. "Well," she finally managed, "it looks like our second date has been arranged for us."

Carlton simply chuckled," Well, now that my work here is done, I should be getting back to my paying job." He picked up a wrapped sandwich. "Eve, Marcus, til Saturday." He turned and left the cafeteria.

Marcus watched him go. "Well," he said, "I've got until Saturday to find something suitable."

"And here I thought only women obsessed over clothes," Eve joked.

"I'm not talking about clothes," Marcus clarified. "It's an Old World custom. The guest brings the host some sort of a gift as thanks for his hospitality. The problem is I don't know your father at all and I've never liked generic-type gifts like chocolate or cigars or what have you. I prefer to give something more personal."

"Well," Eve mused, "you could always give him a book."

"What does he like to read?" Marcus asked.

"You mean besides his medical journals? I mean _old_ books. He has the largest collection of antique first editions and original manuscripts on the Eastern seaboard," Eve explained.

"That's something we have in common then. I've been collecting for most of my life. Most of my books are back in England, but I have a few dozen interesting editions here."

"That's quite true," Katerina piped up, causing Eve to jump. "I've provided a few of those volumes myself."

"I didn't hear you come up Katerina. How is Bette doing?" Eve asked.

"She is resting, and much calmer now. Might I prevail upon one of you young people for a ride home?"

...

Marcus parked his car outside Katerina's residence. "Okay Katerina, what is it that you've not been saying since we left the hospital?"

"Bette's vision," she replied simply. "She saw you and the Monster locked in battle."

"Did she see which one wins?"

"Death," Katerina said, "She saw the ground around you littered with the blood and bones of the innocent. If you continue on this path you will destroy yourself and all those around you. This will happen, Marcus, unless you accept the one thing that can save you."

"Oh, really," he responded dryly, "And what would that be?"

Katerina smiled, though her eyes were serious, "Love," was all she said.

...

_Seacrest Police Department_

Mac Garvey took a sip of long cold coffee and grimaced at the taste. Looking up he saw Simms approaching with a _very_ thick file under his arm. "What have you got there?" he wanted to know.

"I've been doing some digging on our friend Marcus Talbot, like you asked. This file reads like some kind of horror movie," Simms answered. "It starts four years ago in a little town on the border between Switzerland and Germany called Vasaria."

Simms opened the file and handed Garvey a photo from the top. "Katharine Willingham, age 20. Found dead in a wooded valley near Vasaria. Cause of death – broken neck. And I mean twisted around backwards by someone powerful enough to leave a hand print in her skull. The case is still open, the only suspect being an as of yet unidentified vagrant." He continued, "There are no records of similar murders occurring before that date, but a whole string of them stretching across Europe afterwards, and Marcus Talbot shows up a few days later in every location. It's like he's chasing the murderer. Maybe he even knows who it is. But that's not all." Simms picked up the next set of reports in the file. "In a number of the places Talbot shows up – not all of them, but enough to make a disturbing pattern - there are reports of extremely savage wild animal attacks _after_ Talbot's arrival. Attacks just like the one we had last Friday."

Garvey looked at the stack of papers and photos still in the folder. "So what's the rest of the file about?" he asked.

"My Interpol contact made a comment that struck a chord, so I went digging in some historical databases," Simms explained. "Have you ever heard of the Wolf Man?"

"No," Garvey answered, "Who is he?"

"He was a psychopath who left a trail of blood and death across Europe over a ten year period between eighty and ninety years ago. His murders were so savage that most authorities thought they were the work of a wild animal, like a wolf."

"Were there ever any suspects?"

"Just one," Simms replied, "An Englishman named Lawrence Talbot." Garvey looked up at the name. "He was the great-grandfather of Marcus Talbot."

"Was he ever arrested or charged with anything?" Garvey asked.

"No, there was never any hard evidence against him. The really interesting thing though, is that the last recorded Wolf Man murder took place in... Vasaria."

"Interesting coincidence," Garvey observed. "But there is one flaw in your theory that Talbot is chasing the murderer. Until now, he's always shown up _after_ a series of violent deaths. We haven't had any murders of that sort around here."

Simms took two reports from the bottom of the stack and handed them to Garvey. "A couple of teenagers found a pair of bodies at a local make-out spot on Marsden Hill last Saturday night. The coroner puts time of death at sometime Friday evening. The boy was... well, pulverized. The girl had her head twisted right around backwards. The Medical Examiner says she has a hand print pressed into her skull."

"Damn." Garvey considered a moment, "Talbot figured out his pattern and got ahead of him. The sonofabitch has been _waiting_ for this guy to show up!"

"Well, we have the same problem with young Talbot that the authorities of the time had with his great-grandfather," Simms said. "_He was in town at the time_ is not enough to get us a warrant."

"No," agreed Garvey, "but it does warrant us keeping a close eye on him."


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 5_

_Dr. Richard Carlton's Home_

Marcus parked his car and got out, looking up at the large, colonial manor before him. Eve had mentioned her family had lived there since one of her ancestors built it nearly three hundred years ago. _Three hundred years_, he thought, _not bad for a newcomer_. He felt a brief flash of pride in his own family tree, which stretched back more than five centuries.

Eve smiled as she answered his knock, "Hi, did you have any trouble finding the place?" She greeted him with a quick peck on the cheek.

"No trouble," he replied, "But from the look of the house, I half expected a butler to answer the door."

She laughed, "No, the only staff here consists of a gardener, housekeeper, and a cook, none of whom actually live here. And they all have the weekends off so tonight it's just you, me, and my dad."

"If the cook has the weekend off, who's preparing dinner?" Marcus wondered.

"I am," Eve answered. "Dinner won't be ready for about half an hour, so if you don't mind waiting in the library I'm sure you and Dad can find something to talk about."

"Yes, I'm sure we can," he agreed as she opened the library door.

They entered a large room with a high ceiling that was lined with floor to ceiling shelves on each wall with several free standing shelf units all filled with books of all sizes. Marcus recognized a number of medieval manuscripts as well as early printed books and numerous others. Dr. Carlton's collection was impressive indeed. Marcus had been in museums that did not have even half the selection he saw in this room.

Carlton himself was seated in an easy chair reading one of the volumes when Eve spoke up, "Dad, Marcus is here."

Closing the book and carefully placing it on an end table, Carlton rose to his feet and extended a hand in greeting, "I'm glad you could make it Marcus. Welcome to our home."

"Well, I'll leave you to get better acquainted," Eve said. "And Dad? Please don't do the reassembly speech, okay?" She turned and left the room.

Marcus looked confused, "Reassembly speech?"

Carlton just chuckled, "It's my overly-protective father routine. It goes something like _If you hurt her I will dismantle you and put the parts back together in the wrong places._ And being a transplant surgeon I can do it."

"I assure you sir, hurting Eve is the last thing I intend to do. She told me about your collection, but her description fell short of the reality. This is truly impressive."

"Thank you, Marcus. I understand you're a collector yourself?"

"Yes sir," Marcus replied. "I inherited my father's collection when I was twelve, and I've been adding to it ever since."

Carlton gestured to the book he had been reading, "What's your opinion of that one?"

Marcus looked the book over before opening it. "_Notre Dame de Paris_. Spine and binding in excellent condition. First edition, first printing... autographed!" His eyes almost bugged out, "I wasn't aware that there were any signed copies in existence."

"Hugo signed it as a gift for a friend," Carlton explained, picking up a manila envelope from the desk. "This is the provenance for the volume, tracing its ownership right back to the publisher. The author intended this copy as a gift, far be it from me to dispute that. It's yours now, my contribution to your collection."

"That's... very generous of you sir. Thank you," Marcus accepted. "Actually, I have a contribution for your collection as well. I was always taught that it is rude to not bring your host a suitable gift." He reached into his book bag and removed a stained, leather-bound volume which he handed to the older man.

"What have we here?" Carlton examined the book curiously. "It looks like a ship's log... the _Rachel_ out of Nantucket. Now why does that name sound familiar?"

"She was a whaling ship of no particular renown," Marcus explained, "except for two incidents, both documented in that volume of her log. The first is the loss of a longboat crewed by the captain's son during a hunt. It was smashed by the White Whale known as Moby Dick. The second incident was while they were searching for survivors of that wreck. They found a single sailor clinging to a piece of flotsam. He was the sole survivor of the _Pequod_, another whaler that had been sunk by that same whale. And," he added, pulling an envelope out of his bag, "this is the log book's provenance."

Carlton accepted the envelope, "An authentic piece of maritime history. Thank you Marcus. I don't think I've ever been given anything quite like it. And for God's sake please stop calling me _sir_. You're making me feel _old_. My name is Richard. Please. I would be honoured if you used it."

Any further conversation was interrupted by the sound of a booming knock at the front door. "Who the Devil could that be?" Carlton wondered. "If you'll excuse me for a minute, Marcus, I'll be right back. Please, make yourself comfortable." He turned and left the room.

Marcus was admiring an illuminated manuscript when Carlton returned with company. "This is Marcus Talbot, my guest for the evening and a fellow collector. Marcus, this is Konrad Frankenstein. He's trying to locate some old volumes that once belonged to his family. I thought that between us we might have enough connections to help him out."

"I received a voice-mail last week from some one looking for some old journals," Marcus stated. "The caller didn't leave a name, though. Was that you?"

"Yes," Frankenstein admitted, "I apologize for the omission, but I have found that people are less likely to shut me out face to face than they are over the telephone if I mention my name and the nature of my quest."

"You're absolutely right on that count Herr Frankenstein," Marcus responded coldly. "Those journals have been the source of so much death, pain, and misery in the last century and a half that they should be burned if they still exist. So far as I know they were destroyed when a burst dam washed away the ruins of Ludwig Frankenstein's manor outside of Vasaria nearly eighty-five years ago."

"You seem to know a great deal about my family's history Mr. Talbot," Frankenstein observed. "How is that, I wonder?"

"One of my ancestors encountered Heinrich Frankenstein's monstrous creation. He was probably the only person to do so on more than one occasion and live to tell about it," Marcus answered. "For me the Monster is a matter of history, not legend."

"Precisely Mr. Talbot," Frankenstein came back. "For me this is a matter of history as well. I am a historian, not a scientist. My interest in the journals of Heinrich and his sons is one of... completion. Without those texts there is a large gap in my family's written history. I am simply trying to fill in that gap."

"You mean to say that the Frankenstein monster actually existed?" Carlton interjected. "The implications for medical science would be staggering if that were the case."

"Yes, especially given your own speciality," replied Frankenstein. "Imagine a man made entirely of transplants."

"Yes, just imagine it," said Marcus, "A man built to be larger, stronger, and more durable than any human being... and then given the brain of a murderous psychopath. What Frankenstein created is an unstoppable killing machine. And everyone who has come into possession of those journals has fallen victim to the curse of the Frankensteins."

"I'm sorry Mr. Frankenstein, but I really have no idea where to even begin looking for those journals," Carlton added. "My best advice would be to contact various rare book dealers and auction houses. They might be your best bet."

"Very well then," Frankenstein acquiesced, "I apologize for intruding on your evening Dr. Carlton and I will say Good Night."

While Carlton escorted Frankenstein to the front door, Marcus sat and brooded over the evening's revelations. He would have to go to Katerina with this information. His reverie was interrupted by Carlton's return.

"I have to say Marcus, your behaviour towards that man was rather... rude."

"I'm sorry sir... uh, Richard. I have a tendency to react towards people almost instinctively and there was something about him that just put my teeth on edge. He just sort of... _smelled_ wrong. I do try to curb my reactions, but sometimes I get caught off guard."

"Apology accepted," Carlton smiled as Eve walked in.

"Dinner is ready," she simply announced, grasping each man by the elbow and accompanying them to the dining room arm in arm in arm.

...

Marcus and Eve sat in the gazebo behind her home after dinner. She leaned into his side with his arm around her shoulder. "That was a wonderful meal. I'd ask where you learned to cook, but I'm pretty sure the answer would be _I don't know_," he said.

"It's like the old joke," she agreed, "I can answer any question. Sometimes the answer is _I don't know_. I just have more_ I don't knows_ than most people. Apparently my mom was a chef with her own very successful restaurant. I guess something rubbed off."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while,just enjoying each other's presence. A hint of her scent drifted to him on a light evening breeze. He found it... soothing. Eve spoke again, "Marcus? What's wrong? You seem troubled by something."

"I find that I'm enjoying myself for the first time in a long time," he answered. "I'm just worried that I'm going to mess it all up somehow."

"I doubt that," Eve told him. "Dad gave you the reassembly speech didn't he? Even after I told him not to?"

"Well I did ask what it was."

"What makes you think this is going to go wrong anyways?" she wanted to know.

"Let's just say that I've made a mess of my life," he responded. "When Kate, my fiancee, died I made some choices that have long-term repercussions."

"You think you're messed up Marcus? Look at me. I have so many scars I look like a human jigsaw puzzle. The first three quarters of my life are a complete blank. And I may act all tough and independent but I go running home to Daddy every chance I get. Your emotional baggage is not going to scare me off any time soon."

"Some baggage is heavier than others," was all he said.

"Marcus," Eve looked up at him. "Just shut up and kiss me."

And he did. Slowly. Deeply. Passionately.

...

_Downtown Seacrest_

_What's going on?_ Marcus wondered at the sight of police cruisers and a coroner's wagon in front of his apartment building. Driving past, he parked a block away and walked back. "What happened?" he asked one of the crowd of bystanders.

"I think the cops found a dead body in one of the apartments," the man answered.

Curious, Marcus moved closer to the coroner's vehicle and waited until the local Medical Examiner brought out a full body bag on a gurney and began loading it into the van. The bag wasn't zippered properly and as it was jostled during loading Marcus caught a scent from inside it that made the hair on the back of his neck bristle. His teeth gnashed and his fists clenched as he slipped away and around to the back of the building, looking for the rear entrance he suspected the source of that scent would have used.

Casting around, he quickly picked up the trail. A low growl escaped his throat and his eyes gleamed golden in the shadows as he let the Wolf Man out to track his prey. Fully transformed, he loped down the alleyways, following the scent. He was close, closer than he'd ever been. This time the Frankenstein Monster would not escape him.

...

Inside Marcus's apartment Detective Garvey was just finishing up as Simms entered. "Sorry I'm late Mac," Simms said as he entered. "I had a flat tire hold me up while I changed it. What have we got?"

"Take a look around and you tell me," Garvey answered.

"I saw the M.E. taking a body away. Who was it?"

"The building caretaker."

"Well then from the mess in here, I'd say he surprised a burglar," was Simms' assessment.

"Fair hypothesis," agreed Garvey, "except for two details. First, the victim's head was mashed almost flat against the wall over there." He pointed to a roundish smear of blood and brains centred about seven feet up on one wall. "You can easily see the hand print in what's left of the guy's head."

Simms looked ill. "What's the other thing?" he asked.

"This is Marcus Talbot's apartment."

"You think the mysterious vagrant who killed his fiancee did this?" He walked over to the bloodstained wall and looked up at the gore clinging to it. "That mark is well above head height for you or me." He placed his open palm on the wall beside the stain. "If you're going to press on something like that you don't reach up. You have no leverage that way. You can exert much more force if you reach out." He slid his hand down until it was at shoulder height. "That's nearly a foot less than my height, that would make our perpetrator about eight feet tall."

Garvey summed it up, "So you're saying that we've got an eight foot tall hobo wandering around town burglarizing apartments and crushing people into pulp, and that the descendant of one of the most notorious serial killers in history – who may or may not be continuing the family tradition, not only knows who this giant is, but knows that he's here and is hunting him down for revenge."

"Yeah, if you put it that way it does sound pretty ridiculous," Simms concurred. "We're missing something important. But what?"

...

Bette was just closing up shop for the night. Like many students, she held down a part-time job to help with expenses. She had locked up the front of the antique shop in which she worked and was taking out the day's trash before going home for the night. As she turned away from the dumpster a huge shadow loomed over her. Looking up she saw a monstrous form, its face hideously scarred and disfigured. She recognized the being as one of the monsters from the vision that had put her in the hospital earlier in the week. Her throat paralysed with fear, she tried to back away from the creature but only hit the dumpster. As its massive hands reached for her, the terror became too much and she fainted dead away.

...

The Wolf Man was ecstatic. He was gaining on his prey. Soon now, he would taste the hot blood of the Monster, feel the crunch of its bones in his jaws. He entered the back lane cautiously. This close to his prey was the time for stealth. Sniffing the air, he caught the Monster's scent and something else as well. A form lay on the ground by a large metal box. He crept up carefully. The scent was all wrong. This was not his prey... but it would do. During the few moments he sat contemplating her prone form, Bette opened her eyes and began to sit up.

She froze at the sound of a low growl above her. Turning her head slightly she saw golden eyes set in a wolf like face staring at her. The other creature from her vision. It leaned closer and wrinkled its nose as if _sniffing_ her. Bette just knew that if she fainted again this Beast would not pass her by. It would kill her.

The Wolf Man examined this prey as she began to stir. A female, and young. Her flesh would be sweet. As he leaned in, growling in anticipation of the kill another scent caught his attention. It came from the female before him. The scent reminded him of something he could not quite recall. He found it captivating and... _soothing_.

Bette stared into the Wolf Man's golden eyes, knowing they were the last thing she would ever see, and watched as they changed colour to a clear, piercing grey. The change did not stop with his eyes, his entire body shifted and rippled, becoming... human. When the changes finally stopped, she sat looking in shock and amazement at the unconscious form of Marcus Talbot.

...

Katerina knocked on the door of the antique shop, the dozen bracelets she habitually wore jingling on her arm. Bette peeked out nervously before opening the door just wide enough to admit the older woman. "What is the matter, Bette? You weren't making much sense on the phone. What has happened?"

"It's real, it's all real, all of it, the patchwork giant, the beast man, all of it's real, I saw them both again, only not in a vision I saw them with my own eyes as real as I see you now and I've never seen anything so terrifying in my life and what do mmmmfff..." Katerina stopped the babble with her hand over Bette's mouth.

"Calm down child," she advised. "Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That's right." As Bette visibly calmed, Katerina continued, "Now, slowly, start at the beginning."

"Okay," Bette replied, looking at her hands and seeming to notice for the first time the silver-handled walking stick she was holding in a death-grip. "I was just coming back from the dumpster out back when I heard a noise behind me. I looked up and saw the big patchwork guy from my vision last week. And when I say big I mean _really_ big. We're talking duck and turn sideways to go through a door big. And ugly. He could lose a beauty contest with the _Hulk_. But the scariest thing was his eyes. They were black and lifeless, like a doll's eyes. There was nothing human in them. Then I fainted."

"That probably saved your life. He kills for no other reason than that he can, but he does not kill those who are... unaware of his presence. But you mentioned the beast as well?"

"Yeah, the beast-guy... wait a minute! You know who the giant is?"

"Yes, I do," Katerina answered, "He has haunted the memories of my people for generations now. But continue and I will explain what I can when you are done."

"Yeah, well you're gonna have a lot of explaining to do, 'cause this is where things get really weird. I don't know how long I was out, but when I come to there's a _werewolf _drooling all over me. I mean an honest-to-God _werewolf_! I mean look at this stain here," Bette gestured at a dark spot on her sweater. "That is werewolf drool. All over Eve's favourite sweater, how am I gonna get that clean before she finds out... Marcus!"

"Slow down, breathe, be calm. That's better." Bette's breathing began to slow and she seemed visibly calmer. "Now, what about Marcus?" Katerina asked.

"Well, the werewolf leaned in real close like it was gonna take a bite out of me and then it _sniffed_ me instead. It leaned back, got this kind of dopy look on its face and its eyes changed colour, and then the rest of it started to change and pretty soon it had turned into Marcus. You know what this means don't you? My best friend's _boyfriend_ is a _werewolf_!"

"Yes, I know. I've known for a long time," Katerina responded. "Where is Marcus now?"

"In back," Bette told her. "He was unconscious and I didn't know if I should try to wake him up or not."

Bette opened the door to the back room of the shop. Katerina walked through and stopped dead at the sight that greeted her. There was Marcus, still unconscious, bound, gagged, and securely fastened to a solidly built chair. "Bette," she asked, "How much duct tape did you use?"

"Five rolls," was the sheepish answer, "and a bit."

With a sigh, Katerina produced a small dagger from somewhere within the folds of her long skirt and approached Marcus. Carefully, she began cutting the tape binding him to the chair. "This is strange," she commented as she worked. "Ordinarily he does not change back until sunrise, but that is still several hours away." She was aware of Bette nervously pacing and muttering to herself.

"Yeah," Bette seemingly agreed, "Hey, wait a minute! There's no moon out tonight. I thought werewolves could only change under a full moon. At least that's the way it is in the movies."

"There is truth in that," Katerina acknowledged, "Marcus does change involuntarily under the full moon, but the rest of the time he has sufficient control to be able to release the Beast at will. Once transformed, however, he has no control over the Wolf Man's actions. And the Wolf is a completely savage Beast that kills for pleasure. I wonder..." she mused out loud. "Bette, can you give me the sweater you're wearing please?" A moment later the sweater landed on the floor beside her and Bette resumed her pacing and muttering.

Once she had Marcus free of his bindings Katerina quickly peeled the tape gag from his mouth. Marcus remained unconscious, not even flinching. Taking his right hand in hers and placing them over his heart, she held her left hand on his forehead and closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke softly, "_The way you walk is thorny, though the choice is your own. As the rain enters the soil, as the river enters the sea, so too tears run to a predestined end. Be at peace for now my son._"

Marcus' eyelids fluttered as Katerina took a step back. His eyes opened fully and recognition began to dawn. "Kat... Katerina? How? Where?" Then the memory of the events outside his apartment caught up with him. "Dammit! I had him! He was so close, Katerina! Closer even than that time in Prague. How could I have lost him? Eve! Somehow, I remember Eve was there. Oh God, Eve. Did she see..." He stopped when something soft and fragrant struck his face. Katerina had thrown the sweater at him. He held it in both hands and buried his face in it, calming rapidly as he did so.

"Would somebody please give me some sort of explanation of what's going on?" a nervous voice broke in.

Marcus looked up in confusion, "Bette? But I thought Eve was here."

"Only her sweater," Katerina explained. "Bette was wearing it when the Wolf Man came upon her. Apparently Miss Carlton has made quite an impression on you, Marcus. One so strong that even the Wolf responds to her scent."

Marcus stood deep in thought. "Still waiting for that explanation," Bette insisted.

"Yes, of course. I suppose you deserve that much at least," Marcus agreed. "You might as well fire up that coffee pot over there. This is going to take a while."

...

_Abandoned Farm rented by Konrad Frankenstein_

Konrad Frankenstein impatiently paced the length of the barn. While the exterior of the old building had not been changed, he and the Monster had completely renovated the interior. A large propane tank and a gasoline-powered generator provided light, heat, and power for the structure and for the various pieces of scientific and medical equipment that would be arriving shortly. The sound of a heavy footfall on the newly laid wooden flooring caught his attention. Looking up he saw the Monster standing still, watching him. "Did you find anything?" he asked.

By way of answering, the Creature simply raised one massive hand clutching an old leather bound book. Frankenstein reached out and took the offered text. Opening it he read aloud, "The memoir of Lawrence Talbot: 1917 – 1932." Throwing the book across the room, he turned on the Monster and yelled, "You stupid brute! This belongs to Talbot's family not mine! This is useless to us!"

The Monster advanced on Frankenstein and for a moment the man thought that he was about to be crushed to death. But the Creature simply picked up the memoir and said, "Wolf Man."

"What?" Frankenstein asked, confused.

The Monster tried to explain, "Lawrence was... my friend. He found journals. Had... doctor... use them, make us... strong. Then Lawrence... turned into... Wolf Man, tried... to kill me." He pulled his shirt up, revealing a number of poorly healed scars, long and parallel. Claw marks.

Frankenstein accepted the book, "Lawrence Talbot had the journals, eh? This diary may be of some use after all." He sat at his desk, opened the book and began to read.

A few hours later he closed the diary. "So Lawrence Talbot was a werewolf. And to judge by those scars of yours he was more than powerful enough to cause you serious damage, possibly even kill you." He paused thoughtfully, "It has been theorized that Lycanthropia may be genetic as well as infectious. If so, young Talbot may have inherited his ancestor's affliction. That _wild animal _attack last week could have been the work of a werewolf, except that the moon was nowhere near full. Still, a werewolf in the area could draw unwanted attention when we are trying to keep a low profile. We should keep a watchful eye on young Marcus Talbot. If he is afflicted he may have to be eliminated. Perhaps I can determine the truth with a bit of an experiment. I shall have to muse on this some more."


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 6_

_Seacrest College Campus_

Eve opened the door of her dorm and called out, "Hi, I'm ba..." She was cut off by a pint-sized hurricane that wrapped her in a tremendous hug and started babbling.

"Oh you're back and you're all right and okay. I was so scared and worried and..."

"Bette," Eve gasped out, "Air is becoming an issue here."

"Oops, sorry about that," she apologized. "I was just scared and..."

"And worried. I got that already," Eve interrupted gently. "But scared and worried about what?"

"You, sweety," Bette answered, "Ever since that really bad vision that M-M-Marcus gave me I've been getting flashes of things even when I'm not handling anything. I keep seeing the two monsters from that night, sometimes one at a time, sometimes both together. Another vision that keeps recurring is you all cut up and lying on a slab, dead."

"Are you sure? That sounds an awful lot like me in a coma after my accident," Eve tried to reassure her friend.

"Maybe," Bette sounded uncertain. "But there were no life support machines or anything like that and the doctor-guy was pulling a sheet over your face. I'm pretty sure they don't do that with coma patients. Besides, if it is you after your accident it's the farthest into your past I've ever seen."

"What do you mean, Bette?"

"Well, it's like this," Bette explained, "When I touch someone or something I get flashes of their history. Not all the gory details, just the highlights, and the extreme lows as well. But when I touch you," she grasped Eve's hand in her own, "the farthest back I see is you waking up in the hospital."

"That's probably because I don't remember anything before that," Eve said with a self-deprecating smile, "Amnesia chick here after all." She indicated herself with a pointed thumb.

"You don't get it," Bette persisted. "Even if you don't remember your history, _it still happened_. It's like you don't _have_ a past, like you didn't exist before that point."

...

"Penny for your thoughts," Marcus prompted.

"Oh, it's nothing really, " Eve absently answered. It had been three days since Bette's comments about her past – or lack thereof – and she was still brooding about what they might have meant. Not even Marcus's company at what was rapidly becoming _their_ table at the campus coffee shop seemed able to distract her.

"It looks like something to me," he persisted. "You've been stirring your coffee for nearly twenty minutes and have barely said three words in that time. Talk to me Eve. What is it?"

"I'm just puzzling over a problem," she replied. "A variation on the old _ If a tree falls and no-one hears it does it make a sound?_ question. This one goes _If no-one can remember a person's past, did it really happen?_"

"So is this the _Philosophy of Amnesia_? Or has something else got you pondering the past?"

"Bette was saying something about how I don't have a past because her visions don't show her anything before my coma. Now I don't put a lot of stock in that sort of thing. Please don't tell her that by the way. My rebirthday is coming up, and I just sort of started thinking about what my life was like before the landslide erased it all."

"Um, rebirthday?" Marcus quizzed.

"Oh, sorry. My actual birthday is in May, but since I can't remember it I don't have any real emotional attachment to the date. My Dad and I celebrate my new life as a kind of rebirth on the anniversary of the day I woke up. That's tomorrow. Dad is planning something in Boston for the weekend."

"Then why don't we do something tomorrow night?" he suggested. "Just the two of us on a quiet romantic _re_birthday dinner date."

Eve smiled, "That sounds wonderful. Why don't you pick me up at seven?"

...

_Downtown Seacrest_

Eve leaned into Marcus's side with his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they walked through the park. Marcus had gotten reservations at the best restaurant in Seacrest for her rebirthday dinner. He had even arranged for the orchestra to play a number of special requests and they had danced the evening away. Now they were simply enjoying the warmth of each other's arms on a cool autumn evening.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening Marcus," Eve looked up at him. "I think this has been the best rebirthday I've had yet."

"How many have you had? I think you mentioned the number five once," Marcus asked.

"It's five years ago today that I woke up from my coma," she confirmed. "Five years of trying to build a new life without the foundations of my old life to work with."

"That certainly can't be easy," Marcus said with a note of admiration. "You've done an amazing job."

"I don't know about _amazing_, but it certainly has helped to have people like my father and Bette supporting me," she answered. "And now you too. I know we haven't really known each other very long but it feels like you were always meant to be a part of me. I miss you when you're not with me, like there's a part of me missing that I didn't even realize was supposed to be there if that makes any sense. Sometime during these last two weeks I've fallen in love with you Marcus Talbot."

Marcus stopped in his tracks, stunned as her casual statement sunk in. "Eve," he paused, trying to find the words. "There's a part of me that wants to tell you to run from me as far and as fast as you can. That loving me is the biggest mistake you could possibly make. But that small voice is drowned out by the simple joy I feel whenever I see you smile. I feel my heart sing along with the music of your voice. And the sheer intensity of it all frightens me if I stop to think about it. But when I'm near you all the fears, all the doubts and uncertainties fade away and I know deep down in my soul that this is the truth. I love you Eve."

He leaned down to her, she stood on tiptoe, and as their lips met they melted into each other and the world around them ceased to exist for a few magical moments. The spell was broken when Marcus suddenly stiffened and gasped.

"No," the pain in his voice was obvious, "Eve, run." He was almost growling as he collapsed in a heap.

"Oh no sweetness, don't run," Eve backed up a few steps from the young street punk who was wiping Marcus's blood off the wicked looking knife he held. "You and me are gonna have us a party."

Brandishing the knife, casually tossing it back and forth from one hand to the other, the punk stepped over Marcus's prone form and advanced on Eve. As he reached out to grab her, he froze at the sound of a bestial growl behind him. She shrieked as something suddenly erupted from the assailant's chest spraying blood across her face and blouse. It took a moment to register that the something was a fur-covered claw gripping the mugger's still beating heart. Another razor sharp claw swiped across the now limp body's neck, tearing the head from the corpse.

Eve stood frozen in horror at the sight of the Beast standing before her. It stepped towards her, ignoring the bloody body on the ground. Leaning forward slightly, the Wolf Man sniffed the air around her. Its eyes widened in... something, recognition maybe, before taking a step back from her. As she watched, the werewolf's eyes changed from a glowing, feral gold to a clear, piercing grey – Marcus's eyes. It was then that she realized the Beast was wearing Marcus's clothing. "Marcus?" she whispered.

The Wolf Man gave a sudden yelp of pain and clutched his side, spinning away from Eve and collapsing in a heap on the ground. At the same time a sound like a car backfiring registered on her senses. She watched in stunned fascination as the Wolf Man's body began to ripple and shift, transforming to Marcus and back again, as if unable to hold either form.

Shaking off her stupor, she knelt beside him and gently moved the hand/claw that was clutching at his side. Examining the injured area, she found what she assumed was a gunshot wound. Tearing a sleeve off her blouse, she wadded it up and used it as a compress on Marcus's wound. Maintaining pressure with one hand, she fumbled her cell phone open with the other and hit the speed dial. "Daddy?" she sobbed.

...

_Seacrest General Hospital_

Nurse Liza Montero had worked with Dr. Carlton for the last three years and had never seen him move faster than a brisk walk. She felt him to be one of the most calm, stable, and sedentary men she had ever known. So while she sat outside on a smoke break, gossiping with a friend from Pediatrics, she was more than a little shocked to see Carlton tear out of the hospital at a flat out run, jump in his car and peel out of the parking lot with tires squealing.

"What could get Dr. Carlton to move like that?" her friend wondered.

Montero replied simply, "His daughter."

...

_Downtown Seacrest_

Konrad Frankenstein watched through the scope of his rifle as the girl broke down in hysterics over what she had just witnessed. For a moment he considered firing one more shot to put her out of her misery, then thought better of it. He was not a murderer after all. The expendable street thug he had hired to attack the young couple had confirmed his theory that Talbot was indeed a werewolf. Frankenstein had then shot the Beast with a silver bullet he had specially made in Boston a few days earlier. The Wolf Man simply had to be put down like the wild and savage animal he was, he mused as he packed up the rifle and headed back to his car.

...

Carlton's heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer as he stopped his car and got out. In the headlights' glow he could see Eve, sitting on the ground holding someone and rocking back and forth. She looked up and called to him, sobbing, "Daddy, please help him. Please."

Grabbing his bag, he rushed to her side only to stop dead when he got a look at who, at what, she was holding. "God in Heaven! What... what is going on?"

"It's Marcus, Daddy," Eve could barely hold her voice together. "I think he's been shot. I don't understand what's happening to him. Please help him Daddy, please." She looked up at him and Carlton's heart just broke at the pain and grief in his daughter's eyes.

"I love him Daddy," she whispered.

Instantly he was on his knees beside them. "Let me see the wound." Eve carefully lifted the makeshift compress from Marcus's side. Carlton gently felt around the bullet hole, eliciting a growl from his patient.

Eve stroked Marcus's brow, "It's all right," she whispered to him. "He's trying to help you." The stricken werewolf calmed visibly at the sound of her voice.

Carlton concluded his exam. "It feels like the bullet is still in there. I'll need to operate as soon as possible. Help me get him into the car."

Between the two of them, they managed to get Marcus into the back of Carlton's SUV without much difficulty. Eve settled in beside Marcus with his head in her lap. "Where are we going Daddy?" she wanted to know.

"There's no way we can take him to the hospital like this so that severely limits our options," Carlton told her. "We're going home. I have a fully equipped surgical suite set up in the attic of the north wing. It hasn't been used in a number of years, but everything I'll need is there."

A few minutes later he pulled up to the rear of their home. Working together, he and Eve got Marcus into an oversized dumbwaiter that was large enough to lie down in. As Eve crawled in with him Carlton told her, "This goes all the way up. I'll meet you there with a gurney." He closed the dumbwaiter and pressed the _up _button.

Eve's mind swirled with unasked and unanswered questions. _What was happening to Marcus? Who shot him and why? _And somewhere under all her concerns for Marcus she wondered _Why did her father have a surgical suite in the attic?_ The dumbwaiter jerked to a halt wringing a pained whimper from the werewolf in her lap. She stroked his fur and made soothing sounds until the door opened revealing her father and a medical gurney.

"Help me get him prepped for surgery," Carlton ordered.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Just hand me the instruments as I ask for them and handle things like sponges and suction," he told her. "I'll tell you what to do and how to do it, so don't worry. We'll get him through this."

Eve drew strength from her father's confidence. "Okay," she nodded.

Twenty minutes later she watched in awe as Carlton worked quickly and efficiently. "OK now, hand me that spreader and the long forceps." He opened the incision wide with the spreader and pointed with the forceps, "Now I need suction here. Excellent." He probed a little with the forceps. "There's the bullet." Gripping it with the forceps he carefully removed the small piece of metal and dropped it in the tray Eve held out to him. "Now to close him up... what the?" He and Eve stood in silent shock as the surgical incision closed by itself and healed as they watched, leaving only a faint scar.

...

Marcus woke to find himself lying in a hospital bed with an IV drip in his arm. As he struggled to sit up a firm hand gently pushed him back down. "Not so fast, sleepy-head. You've been unconscious for more than a day, so you lie back and take it easy for a little bit until the doctor can take a look at you."

He looked over at the speaker, "Eve? What happened? Where are we? Are you all right?"

Eve laughed, "So many questions! Let's see, Yes, someone shot you, at my house, and I'm fine. Now I've got a question of my own. When exactly were you going to tell me about your furry little problem?"

Marcus just stared at her blankly. "I'm a closet _Harry Potter_ fan. Sue me," Eve explained. "And answer my question."

"I'm not exactly sure when or how I would have broached the subject, but I would have told you about my condition," he said. "I mean something like _I love you Eve, by the way I'm a werewolf_, is more likely to get me locked up in a rubber room than anything. I do wish you hadn't found out in such a traumatic manner."

"Do you remember what happened?" Eve wanted to know.

"Only up to a point," Marcus confessed. "I remember walking with you in the park, our conversation, a kiss that made the stars sing, and then a burning pain in my back and I could feel the Wolf breaking free. Everything after that is hazy at best."

Carlton walked in at that moment. "So you're back among the living I see." He pulled a stethoscope from his pocket. "Let's just give you a quick once-over to make certain everything's all right."

He proceeded to check Marcus's vitals and overall physical condition, as well as inspecting the region where the bullet wound had been. Once he was satisfied, Eve fluffed a pillow and propped it behind Marcus so he could sit more comfortably.

"Now I believe we deserve some sort of explanation," Carlton demanded. "Don't you agree Marcus?"

"Absolutely," Marcus agreed. "I'm just not sure where to start."

"The beginning is a good place," Eve observed.

"Which beginning though?" Marcus mused. "There are three different points at which the tale can begin. I guess we can start with my condition and then see where things go from there. Do either of you know anything about Lycanthropia?"

"Don't you mean Lycanthropy?" Carlton asked.

"No. Lycanthropy is a mental illness in which the patient believes that he turns into an animal, usually a wolf. Everything happens only in his mind. He may act like a wolf, but he does not actually become one. Lycanthropia involves chemical and hormonal imbalances that cause real physical changes. The patient not only acts like a wolf, he takes on some of the actual physical characteristics of a wolf."

"But what triggers the changes?" Eve enquired.

"They're a little different for every werewolf," Marcus explained. "For my part, the Full Moon and the nights immediately before and after it bring on an involuntary change. I can voluntarily trigger a spell at any time, though I have no control over the Wolf if I do. Also, a serious injury like being stabbed or shot will trigger a reflexive change."

"Why is that, I wonder?" asked Carlton.

"A werewolf has superhuman strength, speed, and agility," Marcus answered. "And it heals conventional injuries so quickly it's as if they never occurred. A knife or gunshot would close up almost immediately, leaving barely any scar. The wolf feels the pain of the injury of course, but all that serves is to enrage it and the person who hurt it usually ends up in small, bloody pieces."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out," Eve muttered.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that Eve," Marcus apologized.

"So a life threatening injury will cause a change so that you can heal yourself," Carlton clarified.

"Basically, yes," Marcus confirmed. "There are a number of residual effects as well, even when I'm... me. I'm stronger and faster than normal. Not werewolf levels, but I can put most Olympic Medallists to shame. My senses are much sharper than typical as well. I can actually identify a person just by scent. And I heal quickly."

"How quickly?" Carlton asked.

"Hours instead of days, days instead of weeks," was Marcus's reply.

"So how exactly did you contract this disease?" was Carlton's next question.

"Well," Marcus paused in thought for a moment, "For the how and why I think we should start at the very beginning, in a makeshift laboratory in an old watchtower near a small Swiss village called Frankenstein."


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 7_

_Near the village of Frankenstein, Switzerland_

_1859_

The storm raged around the old hilltop watchtower, the occasional lightning strike so close its thunder rattled the battlements. A large room at the top of the tower had been converted to a laboratory by one of the two men currently facing each other inside. Heinrich Frankenstein, heir to the Frankenstein fortune and title, gestured to a nearby chair, "I'm sorry Doctor, but I insist. Please."

The older man took the proffered seat and waited patiently. "Doctor Waldman," Frankenstein began, "I learned a great deal from you at the university about the Violet ray, about the Ultraviolet ray which you said was the highest colour in the spectrum. You were wrong. Here, in this machinery, I have gone beyond that. I have discovered the Great Ray that first brought life into the world."

Waldman responded with a heavy dose of scepticism, "Oh. And your proof?"

Frankenstein answered calmly, but with increasing enthusiasm, "Tonight you shall have your proof. At first I experimented only with dead animals, and then a human heart which I kept beating for _three_ weeks. But now I'm going to turn that Ray on that body and endow it with life." He pointed to a large, shroud covered form on the table in the centre of the laboratory.

Waldman's scepticism only increased, "And you really believe that you can bring life to the dead?"

Frankenstein's reply chilled his former mentor to the soul, "That body is not dead. It has never lived. _I created it._ I made it with my own hands from the bodies I took from graves, from the gallows, anywhere. Go and see for yourself."

Doctor Waldman rose from his seat and approached the oversized cadaver. Searching for vital signs he found no pulse, no respiration, and the eyes were empty and glazed in death. "Dead? Yes?" Frankenstein prompted. Waldman simply nodded and returned to his chair.

As another thunderclap rattled the windows, Frankenstein rubbed his hands in manic glee. Working quickly, he stripped the shroud from the body and connected electrical cables to a pair of terminals located on either side of its neck. Next, he went to the apparatus that dominated the north wall of the laboratory and began throwing switches and adjusting dials. Finally he took hold of a hoist chain in the corner and paused for a moment, gazing through the open skylight. He pulled on the chain and the table holding the body began to rise towards the ceiling and on upwards through the skylight.

The metal infuser mounted above the table acted like a lightning rod, attracting several strikes in rapid succession. Indicators on the apparatus lit up, energy arced between electrodes, and the atmosphere was charged with the scent of ozone. At last Frankenstein pulled the other side of the hoist chain and lowered the table back to the laboratory floor.

Turning off the switches on his machinery, he hurried to the side of the table where a large hand dangled at the end of a massive arm. As he watched, the fingers twitched and then the entire hand began to flex. As the creature raised its arm, Frankenstein whispered to himself at first then progressively louder and more manic, "Look, it's moving, it's alive. It's alive, it's alive, it's moving. It's alive, oh, it's alive! It's alive, it's alive! It's alive! In the name of God, now I know what it feels like to _be_ God!" The heaviest thunderclap yet shook the tower to its foundations, as if God Himself was demonstrating His disapproval.

A few days later Doctor Waldman was pacing the floor of the tower room Frankenstein used as a study. "Come and sit down Doctor," Heinrich said. "You must be patient. Do you expect perfection all at once?"

"This creature of yours should be kept under guard," Waldman voiced his concerns. "Mark my words, it will prove dangerous. You are young my friend, your success has intoxicated you. Wake up! And look facts in the face. Here we have a fiend whose brain..."

"Whose brain must be given time to develop," Frankenstein interrupted. "It's a perfectly good brain, Doctor. Well you ought to know. It came from your own laboratory."

Waldman's matter-of-fact reply sent a shudder of horror through Frankenstein, "The brain that was stolen from my laboratory was a criminal brain."

The younger man stammered, "Oh well. After all it's only a piece of dead tissue." He sounded unsure of who he was trying to convince, Waldman or himself.

Doctor Waldman had the last word on the topic though, "Only evil can come of it. Your health will be ruined if you persist in this madness."

...

_Carlton Home_

_Present Day_

"Waldman's prediction proved to be accurate," Marcus continued with his history lesson. "Frankenstein's creation became increasingly violent and uncontrollable, and Frankenstein himself collapsed from a kind of nervous exhaustion. During his convalescence the Monster killed Waldman and broke loose, terrorizing the countryside. Eventually Frankenstein's role in its creation was revealed and he became a pariah. The Monster was hunted down and believed destroyed. But that wasn't the case."

"It's unbelievable," Eve whispered. Aloud she added, "I've heard the stories of course, but I always assumed they were just that stories, legends with no real historical basis. To find out that they really happened is just a little difficult to process quickly."

Marcus held her hand comfortingly, "I don't blame you. I didn't really believe any of it myself until I came face to face with the Monster itself. But I'm getting ahead of myself."

"Perhaps you should carry on then," Carlton suggested.

Marcus gathered his thoughts a moment then continued, "It was more than thirty years later that Heinrich's son Wolf inherited the title of Baron Frankenstein and came to claim the family estate with his wife and son. Heinrich's will left his journals for Wolf to read and do with whatever he would. During one of his exploratory walks around the estate, Wolf found an underground crypt containing the coffins of his father and grandfather, as well as the comatose, but still living body of the Monster."

He took a drink of water before continuing. "Wolf had already restored the old laboratory out of curiosity and so he took the Monster there in order to conduct a thorough medical examination of it. During that exam he fell victim to the curse of the Frankensteins. The irresistible obsession and fascination with the Monster. He connected a generator and shocked the Creature back to consciousness. It killed several people and kidnapped Frankenstein's young son before it was stopped and believed destroyed once again."

"Why would it take a child?" Eve wondered.

"Loneliness," Carlton replied. "It was the only one of its kind and was shunned by everyone it ever met. It probably wanted the boy to be its friend."

"In any event," Marcus went on with his narrative, "rumours of the Monster's survival persisted, although there were no confirmed sightings for more than a quarter of a century. Then it was seen in the village of Vasaria. Heinrich's younger son Ludwig had established a medical practice there some years earlier and had managed to avoid the stain associated with the Frankenstein name. He had garnered a reputation as a great physician and healer. He attempted to vindicate his father and brother and correct their mistakes with the Monster. In reality, the curse had struck again. Ludwig operated on the Monster, attempting to repair the brain damage it had suffered during the many assaults on it over the years, as well as to curb the violent tendencies it had exhibited since Heinrich first brought it to life. He failed miserably."

Carlton asked, "How so?"

"Ludwig was able to increase the Creature's intellectual capacity, even restoring its power of speech. But its violent nature was untouched. If anything, its capacity for violence was increased. Before the surgery it had the mind of an angry child, possessed of a low cunning but not much else. Now it was actually smart, able to make plans and reason through problems. Ludwig had wanted to tame the Monster, instead he made it more dangerous than ever."

"I'll bet people weren't too happy about that," Eve commented.

Marcus agreed, "When the townspeople found out they rioted and burned the Frankenstein manor down around Ludwig and the Monster. Ludwig's daughter Elsa was the only survivor."

"So what, exactly, does all this have to do with you being a werewolf?" Eve asked.

"Four or five years after the events in Vasaria, my great-grandfather, Lawrence Talbot, returned to his ancestral home near the Welsh village of Llanwelly for his brother's funeral," Marcus stated. "As the only surviving heir to the estate and title he stayed and began getting to know the people of the area. He also made great strides in repairing the estranged relationship he had with his father, Sir John Talbot. Everything was going great for him and then, in a single night, his life went all to hell."

"What happened?" Eve needed to know.

"A gypsy caravan set up camp just outside of town. Lawrence convinced a young woman named Gwen Conliffe, whom he was trying to start a relationship with, to go visit the gypsies with him to have their fortunes told. Gwen agreed and brought her friend Jenny with her as a chaperone."

...

_Llanwelly Village, Wales_

_1920_

Lawrence was enjoying himself more than he thought he would be. At first he was a little resentful when Gwen had invited Jenny along as a chaperone, but the young brunette was proving to be excellent company. And how depressed could any man be with _two_ pretty girls on his arm? As they walked, talking and laughing together, the setting sun illuminated a flowering bush just ahead of them.

"Oh look!" Jenny exclaimed. "Wolfbane. _Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the moon is full and bright_." She picked a bouquet of the flowers while reciting the rhyme.

"You know that one too, huh?" Lawrence observed, thinking back to the conversation he had with Gwen earlier that day.

"Of course," Gwen said. "Everyone knows about werewolves."

As they approached the gypsy camp a middle-aged man wearing a handlebar moustache and a hoop earring greeted them.

"We've come to have our fortunes told," Jenny gushed. "Can you really read the future?"

"I will not disappoint you, my lady," the man said. "Will you step inside please?"

"Do you mind if I go in first?" Jenny asked her friends.

"Oh no, you go right ahead," Lawrence offered.

"Go on, silly," Gwen encouraged. Jenny smiled broadly and followed the gypsy into his tent.

"We didn't come down to listen in on Jenny, did we?" Lawrence asked meaningfully.

Gwen's reply was tentative, "Nnooo..."

Lawrence pushed a little harder, "Well, maybe if you took a little walk with me, I could tell your fortune."

Gwen just smiled and took his arm as they walked talking about nothing in particular and flirting back and forth. As the moon rose ahead of them she reflected that she could very easily fall in love with Lawrence Talbot. Her reverie was broken by a bloodcurdling howl that split the night air.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I don't know," Lawrence answered, mystified. "I've never heard anything like it."

The howl repeated itself and was followed by a woman's scream of terror. Lawrence tightened his grip on the silver-handled walking stick he had purchased that afternoon and told Gwen "Wait here". He ran towards the scream.

Lawrence saw what looked like a large wolf jump on Jenny and bear her to the ground, screaming. The beast lunged for her throat and Jenny's screams were cut off with a gurgle and a crunch. With no thought for his own safety Lawrence charged in and swung the hook end of his cane into the animal's side with sufficient force to crack its ribs.

The wolf yelped in pain and rolled off of Jenny's body, coming to its feet and glaring at him with pure animal rage.

Without warning the wolf pounced at Lawrence, slamming him back against a tree. He heard his jacket rip, felt teeth tear through the flesh of his chest. Almost instinctively he lashed out with his cane, eliciting a pained yelp from the beast. Not waiting for it to recover, he swung the heavy silver handle of his cane again and again, not stopping until the wolf's head was an unrecognizable mass of blood and pulp. Only then did he stop, dropping the cane beside the dead animal and staggering away before collapsing from exhaustion and blood loss.

...

_Carlton Home_

_Present Day_

"Gwen was able to get Lawrence home with the help of an old gypsy woman who happened by," Marcus said, watching as the horror began to dawn in the eyes of his audience. "When the authorities reached the site they found Jenny's body, mauled to death by some sort of wild animal. Nearby they found the body of a gypsy fortune-teller named Bela, with his skull crushed by multiple blows from a blunt, heavy object. Beside him they found Lawrence's cane, the silver handle stained with blood. Naturally, it was assumed that Lawrence had killed Bela accidentally during some sort of confused battle with the wolf that killed Jenny. But that wasn't the case at all."

"Bela _was _the wolf,wasn't he," Eve whispered.

"Yes," Marcus confirmed. "The old woman, Maleva was her name, later revealed to Lawrence that Bela had suffered the curse for years and that what Lawrence had done was, in fact, a mercy. She also told him that anyone who was bitten by a werewolf and lived would become a werewolf himself. Lawrence had been bitten, although the bite had healed with remarkable speed, leaving nothing but a star-shaped scar on his chest. A mark that Maleva described as a pentagram, the sign of the Beast that every werewolf is supposedly marked with." Marcus lifted his arm to show the star-shaped birthmark on the inside of his left bicep. "This wasn't there before I first changed."

Eve took his hand in hers and gently ran her fingers over the mark, then tenderly kissed it before looking up at Marcus with tears glistening in her eyes. "Go on," she said.

"Lawrence didn't believe her of course. But the full moon came and he changed. The first two nights he killed mostly livestock, but there were a couple of people who were unfortunate enough to cross his path. Those murders, on top of Jenny's death, were enough to whip the village folk into a frenzy. Traps were set and hunting parties roamed the moors. Everyone wanted to bag the killer wolf. But it was Sir John who found it."

"Sir John Talbot?" Carlton asked, "His own father?"

"It was an ironic twist that saw the same scenario repeated with different players," Marcus stated. "The Wolf Man attacked Gwen Conliffe and Sir John came to her rescue armed with his son's silver-handled cane. The difference lay in the relative size of the combatants. Sir John was known for a commanding presence, but physically, well you could have looked over the crown of his hat, Doctor. Lawrence on the other hand was a large, powerfully built man, my size at least. Add in the power of a werewolf and it was really no contest. Sir John may have got in one or two good hits with the cane, but in the end he died never knowing it was his own son that had killed him."

"How horrible," was all Eve could say.

"When Lawrence came to himself the next morning, Maleva was there. She filled him in on what had happened the night before. Lawrence Talbot never returned to Llanwelly. He left with Maleva that day. She confided that Bela had been her son and that she had taken care of him, keeping his animal self calm and under control for the most part. As Bela's curse had passed to Lawrence, she accepted responsibility for him and sought to help him the way she had helped her son. Together they left England and travelled across Europe. At first she was able to keep the wolf in check with relative ease, but as the months passed it became increasingly more difficult for her to do so. More and more the Wolf Man slipped her control, and when that happened people died."

"_The Wolf Man_," Carlton mused. "I remember now. I was watching one of those sensationalistic true crime documentary series about a European serial killer from the Nineteen Twenties who was known by that name. So he really was a Wolf Man."

Marcus nodded and continued, "Maleva's health was beginning to fail and she knew that when she was gone there would be nothing to restrain Lawrence during the nights of the full moon so they began searching for possible cures. Eventually they heard of a doctor who could seemingly work miracles, curing patients deemed hopeless by other physicians. Doctor Ludwig Frankenstein. So they set out for the German-Swiss border town of Vasaria."

"But didn't you say that Frankenstein was already dead by that time?" Eve wondered.

"That's true, but you have to remember that communications then weren't as sophisticated as they are nowadays. Frankenstein's death was essentially just local news that would sometimes take _years_ to spread beyond the region, if at all. Lawrence and Maleva didn't discover that Frankenstein was dead until they reached Vasaria and asked about him. As they drove their horse cart out of town Lawrence gave in to despair and ran into the woods either not knowing or not caring that the full moon was rising soon."

"He didn't kill anyone that night did he?" Carlton asked.

"I don't know," Marcus replied. "His memoir doesn't say. He came to himself again in a glacial ice cavern beneath the ruins of the Frankenstein manor. While looking for a way out he made a chilling discovery. The Frankenstein Monster, frozen in the ice. Looking at it, he came up with a desperate plan. Doctor Frankenstein must have had access to the journals detailing the Monster's creation. If he could find them, a talented enough physician could use them to try and cure him, or at least grant him the peace of death. So Lawrence dug the Monster out of the ice and befriended it. When it had regained some of its strength he asked it about the journals. The Creature led him to a hidden chamber in the ruins of the manor, but there was nothing in it. He was on the verge of despair again when he found a photograph in a charred frame. Frankenstein' daughter Elsa. He thought _she_ might know where to find the journals."

Eve commented, "I can't believe that she was still living in the area."

Marcus smiled, "She wasn't. She had inherited the title of Baroness Frankenstein and moved to Geneva. Lawrence lured her back to Vasaria with some subterfuge about wanting to buy the old estate. She came with her fiance, a Doctor Mannering. At first she was furious at the deception and refused to talk about the journals at all. But then the Monster attacked during a local festival and she knew she had a responsibility. She agreed to show Lawrence the journals on condition that Mannering perform the procedures to cure or kill him and destroy the Monster."

"I'm guessing that Mannering fell prey to the Frankenstein Curse," Carlton interjected.

"Got it in one," Marcus confirmed. "Mannering just _had_ to see Frankenstein's Creation at full strength. So he switched the electrodes. Instead of using the apparatus to _drain_ the life energy from Lawrence and the Monster, he _supercharged_ them both. The full moon rose as he threw the switches and Lawrence changed. The Wolf Man and the Monster broke free of their restraints and began battling each other. Mannering and the Baroness ran for their lives, and not a moment too soon. An especially paranoid villager had planted some dynamite at the base of a dam upstream from the manor. When it blew the manor and everything in it, Wolf Man and Monster included, were completely washed away."

"But if Lawrence died that day, where did your family come from?" Eve asked in some confusion.

"He didn't die," Marcus responded. "Remember that glacial ice cave he found the Monster in?"

"He was washed in there and frozen," Carlton supposed.

"Him and the Monster both," Marcus said. "Several years later an escaped prisoner named Gustav Niemann came to Vasaria seeking the Frankenstein Journals. Niemann had originally been imprisoned for trying to replicate some of Heinrich Frankenstein's experiments. He found that same glacial cave and discovered the Monster and the Wolf Man preserved in the ice. When he thawed them out he realized that they were still alive. The moon wasn't full at the time so the Wolf Man reverted to Lawrence, while the Monster was badly injured and comatose. Niemann also found the Journals. He promised to help Lawrence, but his obsession with the Monster kept taking precedence. Lawrence quickly realized that Niemann wasn't going to help him and took off on his own."

"But didn't you say that without Maleva's influence the Wolf Man would be uncontrollably savage?" Eve asked.

Marcus nodded. "Maleva had passed away a few years earlier so there was no controlling the Wolf at all. That was the darkest, most savage period of Lawrence's life. So he wandered aimlessly trying to avoid people whenever he could. And then he heard of another physician with a reputation for curing the incurable in, of all places, Vasaria."

...

_Vasaria, on the border between Switzerland and Germany_

_1931_

Nurse Milizia Morelle approached the tall man waiting in the garden. "The Doctor will see you now," she told him.

"Do you think he can help me?' he asked her.

"He's done some wonderful things," she reassured him. Guiding him into the house that doubled as a private clinic, she looked into his haunted eyes and wondered how long Lawrence Talbot had been forced to live with the horrible condition he suffered from.

Doctor Franz Edelmann looked up from the notes he was studying and gestured for Lawrence to take a seat, "Sit down, Mr. Talbot."

"What have you got to tell me?" Lawrence asked.

Edelmann was frank with him. "In your case, my boy, diagnosis is extremely difficult."

"But the examination you made this morning..." Lawrence exclaimed, "The x-rays..."

"The examination discloses one condition," Edelmann explained. "Pressure upon certain parts of the brain. This condition, coupled with your belief that the moon can bring about a change accomplishes exactly that. During the period in which your reasoning processes give way to self-hypnosis, the glands which govern your metabolism get out of control, like a steam engine without a balance wheel. When this happens the glands generate an abnormal supply of certain hormones. In your case those which bring about the physical transformation you experience."

"Explaining it doesn't help," Lawrence complained. "What can you do about it? Operate?"

"A surgical operation to enlarge the cranial cavity is a long and dangerous one," Edelmann advised.

"Then there's nothing you can do to help me." The despair was audible in Lawrence's voice.

"There might be." Talbot looked up hopefully at Edelmann's statement. "Come here, my boy." He led Lawrence to a greenhouse on the other side of the house.

"Under tropical conditions, which we've tried to duplicate here, this hybrid plant – _vivaria formosa_ – produces a mould from which we've been able to distill, well, a substance which possesses the property of softening any hard substance composed of calcium salts. Bone for instance. With this medium it might be possible without surgery to reshape the cranial cavity and thus eliminate the pressure." Milizia saw Lawrence's face lit by something he evidently hadn't felt in a long time... hope.

...

_Carlton Home_

_Present Day_

Marcus paused, deep in thought. "So what went wrong?" Carlton asked.

"Nothing," Marcus answered. "Edelmann's procedure worked like a charm. When the next full moon rose Lawrence stood in the garden and watched it, and for the first time in a decade remained ... human. The only tragedy was the fire that broke out a short time later. Edelmann's house and lab were destroyed, all his research and samples lost, and Doctor Edelmann himself killed. Lawrence married Milizia and they settled in Blackmoor, England and raised a family there. That's where I come into the story."

"At last, we get to the good part," Eve quipped.

"Yeah, I guess I have been a little long winded," Marcus agreed, moistening his throat from the water glass. "My life hasn't exactly been unmarked by tragedy. My father died from lung cancer when I was twelve. I actually don't remember ever seeing him without a smoldering cigar clenched in his teeth." Eve cast an extremely pointed look at her father.

Not seeming to notice, Marcus went on. "My mother passed away four years later of a heart attack. She had come from money so my sisters and I were well taken care of. They've since married and are raising their families. I'd been aiming for a career in law enforcement so I went to school, studying criminology and abnormal psychology. That was where I met Kate Willingham. We fell in love and when I proposed she accepted. We decided to take some time off to enjoy life before settling down to the responsibilities of family and career, so we did the stereotypical student thing and went backpacking across Europe. On the night we camped in a wooded valley on the Swiss side of Vasaria, everything changed."

...

_A Forest Near the German-Swiss Border_

_4 Years Ago_

"M-m-Marcus? I think I know why this valley is supposed to be haunted."

Quickly moving to Kate's side, Marcus made sure that she was alright before following her gaze. He felt a fist of ice clench round his heart at the sight before him. Buried in the peat was the mummified corpse of a gigantic man, horribly scarred and disfigured. Kate moved forward to examine the body in more detail, but Marcus scuttled backwards in fear. "Kate, I don't think you should disturb it any more than you already have," he advised her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Marcus," she chided him. "He's obviously been dead a very long time. He must have been preserved by the peat, kinda like that Ice Man mummy they found way up in the Alps a few years ago. I wonder how long he's been in this bog?"

Kate reached into the bog and grasped one of the body's hands. "Wow," she exclaimed. "I was expecting it to feel dry and leathery, but the skin is still supple." She lifted the arm. "He's not stiff or anything. You'd think he'd be so dried out there wouldn't be any flex left in him. This is amazing Marcus." She turned back to face her fiance. "We have to go back to town in the morning and tell someone about this."

Marcus finally found his voice. "Kate, get away from there! Do you have any idea what that is?"

Kate was about to reply when she felt an impossibly strong grip on her shoulder, turning her around to face the bog man. Her voice froze in her throat as she saw it sitting up looking at her, its dead eyes peering out from under heavy lids. Keeping an iron grip on her shoulder it reached up with its other hand and gently stroked her long, soft hair. A moment later it gripped the top of her head and twisted violently. With a sharp _snap_ of her neck she was looking backwards at Marcus as the light faded from her eyes. It dropped her lifeless corpse and began working to extricate itself from the clinging peat. Marcus scrambled to his feet and ran for his life.

...

_Carlton Home_

_Present Day_

"I didn't stop running until I tripped over someone else's campfire and passed out in shock. When I woke up, Katerina was looking after me." Marcus found himself unable to look Eve in the eye as he recounted the bargain he had struck with the gypsy wise woman.

Eve's comment was not what he expected. "A year to find a cure or she'll _kill_ you? Are you in_sane_? What were you _thinking_?"

Marcus looked up and saw a variety of emotions running across her face. But it was the unwavering _love_ he saw in her eyes that surprised him most. "Truthfully," he confessed, "At the time I wasn't planning on surviving my final battle with the Monster."

Eve looked stricken. "Kate was dead," Marcus continued. "I felt I had no reason to go on anymore. I told Katerina it was about justice and responsibility but it was really _vengeance_. I was going to avenge Kate and then join her."

"You said _At the time_," Carlton spoke up. "What happened to change that?"

Marcus smiled, "Eve." He took her small hand in his large one and looked into her eyes. "I discovered that it's possible to love again, and for old pain to heal." He kissed her hand then reached up and gently wiped away the tears beginning to run down her cheek.

"You look exhausted Eve." There was concern in Marcus's voice. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

She was gathering up the leftovers from the Chinese take-out that Carlton had provided for supper. "I've caught a couple of naps over the last few days, but I guess the last full night's sleep I had was Wednesday."

"Marcus is right," Carlton concurred. "He's pretty much fully recovered now so you can stop the mother hen/nursemaid routine and get some real sleep. I know that's what I'm going to do. I gather there are still a few things you want to discuss Marcus, but they can wait until tomorrow. Good night you two. And get to bed Eve. Doctor's orders."

Eve rolled her eyes as he left, "Yes, Dad."

Once the door closed behind him she looked at Marcus with a smile and a mischievous glint in her eye, "He didn't say _which_ bed I should get to. Scoot over and make some room, Marcus."

He obliged and Eve curled up on top of the blankets beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder with his arm around her. As he quietly stroked her hair she stiffened slightly as his hand brushed the base of her skull. "Eve? What is it? What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath, "It's nothing really. I'm just a little self-conscious about that area is all. That's where my lug bolts are."

"Your what?"

"My lug bolts," she explained. "While I was comatose I was kept in traction in case of spinal damage. Normally a traction rig is attached to the head with four bolts screwed into the skull equally spaced around the crown. But with the reconstruction I had there wasn't enough solid bone to work with so Dad had to improvise. He modified the rig so that the rear bolts were lower down and closer together and then he welded the attachment bolts to one of the steel plates holding my skull together." She sat up and pulled her hair up and to the side, revealing a pair of quarter-inch round metal bolts protruding perhaps half an inch from the base of her skill. "They tend to build up a static charge, so touching them both at the same time usually gives a bit of a shock."

"Does it hurt when that happens?"

"Not really, no," Eve answered. "It feels more like someone set off a flashbulb in my face. I get a bright flash, then I'm seeing stars and spots for a bit. It usually takes a minute or so before I can see clearly again."

"You don't have to tell me all these things about yourself if it makes you uncomfortable you know," Marcus told her.

"I know. But you've shared so many hard and painful things about yourself, and I don't want to have any secrets from you. I love you Marcus, and I want to share as much of myself with you as I can." She snuggled into his side again and was asleep in a few minutes.

Marcus just lay there awhile holding her until he too fell asleep.

...

In his study Carlton finished the post-surgery assessment on Marcus and prepared to place it with the other case files he had worked on that no one else could ever find out about. Walking to a particular bookcase he operated a hidden catch on it and swung the entire unit away from the wall like an oversized door, revealing a large wall safe behind it. Opening the safe, he place Marcus's file into a small file cabinet inside it. Before closing and concealing the safe his gaze lingered on a large iron-bound wooden box secured with a padlock that rested on the bottom shelf. _Perhaps my greatest treasure_ he thought. _For the sake of which I may well be damned_.

Walking back to his desk, he checked the security monitor showing Marcus's room. The black and white screen showed the young couple asleep, with Eve curled possessively and somehow protectively around Marcus. With a sad smile Carlton turned off the monitor and went upstairs to his bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 8_

_Carlton Home_

Carlton knocked on the door before opening it and entering the room, pushing a cart loaded with covered dishes and trays before him. "Good morning, you two," he greeted. "Breakfast is served." He removed the covers from the dishes revealing a variety of breakfast foods and lifted a pot of coffee from the bottom shelf of the cart.

Eve murmured sleepily, "Dad? What time is it?"

"Nearly ten-thirty," he answered with a knowing smile.

"What?!" She sat up, wide awake now. "Why didn't you wake us earlier?"

"Well, I did tell you to get some rest," her father replied.

"I've actually been awake for a while now," Marcus added. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. And admiring the view," he said, looking at Eve.

She just rolled her eyes and went to the cart where she loaded up a couple of plates for her and Marcus. The three sat and ate in silence for a while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Eve stopped eating for a while, her attention seemingly captured by a corner of the ceiling. She broke out of her reverie when she realized her father was talking.

"I've been digesting your story since last night, Marcus," he was saying. "And what I don't understand is how you could possibly have ended up in Seacrest of all places."

"I actually only chased the Monster for about two years," Marcus answered. "After I missed him by a hair's breadth in Prague I got really frustrated with always being behind him. I started looking at the people he'd killed, the places he'd been and what common denominators they all had. It didn't take long to realize that he was looking for something, but what? A year and a half ago I figured it out. He was looking for the Frankenstein Journals."

"So he's what? Looking for his user manual or something like that?" Eve asked.

"No," Carlton realized. "With those journals he can force a sufficiently skilled surgeon to build him a companion."

"Exactly," Marcus agreed. "Being a longtime collector I know how to work the network of dealers and auction houses so I was able to track down the journals faster than he could. About six months ago I discovered that the journals were last known to be in Boston about thirty years ago. The auction house went out of business after a fire eighteen years ago and their records were lost, but I was able to track down a former employee who seemed to remember them going to a 'nice young man from Seacrest'."

"So you came here looking for the journals for what? Bait?" Eve sounded incredulous.

"More or less," Marcus replied. "I've been making discreet enquiries about the journals since I got here but with no luck. The closest I've come to even finding a clue to their whereabouts is purely circumstantial. It turns out that there is a brilliant transplant surgeon here in town who just happens to be a collector of rare books." He looked Carlton in the eye.

"So you jumped to the same conclusion as that fellow last week."

"Not so much jumped as leaned in the general direction," was Marcus's comeback. "I don't like making assumptions without evidence to back them up. And I wanted to know you better before making any leaps of logic. You're a likely candidate to have the journals but that doesn't mean that you're the only one who can have them."

Carlton nodded, "Thank you for at least giving me the benefit of the doubt."

"Well, now that we've established that we trust each other," Eve interjected, "Can we please move this discussion out of this depressingly sterile hospital room?"

"With pleasure," Marcus plucked at the hospital gown he was wearing. "I don't suppose my clothes survived the surgery."

"Your trousers are more or less intact, but that's about it," Carlton answered. "I doubt any of my clothes would fit you. I've got a couple of bathrobes you could borrow for the moment, but that's about it."

"I could swing by your apartment and pick a few things up for you," Eve offered.

"That won't be necessary if I can find my cell phone," Marcus said. "I leave a few changes of clothing at Katerina's for the nights of the full moon. I can have her bring them over. I've been thinking we should all get together and hold a council of war so to speak. Get everything out in the open and make plans accordingly."

...

After grabbing a shower and a change of clothes, Eve knocked on the door of her father's study and opened it. "Dad? Can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course Eve. You can talk to me about anything. You know that. What's bothering you sweetheart?"

"It's not any one thing, more a bunch of little things that add up. And I'm not really sure what they add up to or if they add up to anything at all." Eve sounded unsure of herself.

"What kind of little things honey?"

"Well, for one thing, I'm certain I've never been in the north wing before and yet I recognized the room we moved Marcus to after his surgery. When I woke up this morning I saw a particular crack in the plaster in one corner near the ceiling. The room I woke from my coma in had an identical crack in the exact same place. I'd swear that was the same room, the room I first woke up in. There's other things too. Like Bette's claim that I don't have a past because she can't see it in her 'psychic visions'. Then there's my scars, especially the three biggest ones on my chest. We both know what those look like. And after hearing Marcus's description of the Frankenstein Monster I took a good hard look at my lug bolts in the mirror. I'm getting scared Dad. Who am I? _What_ am I?"

Carlton went to the bar and poured two large glasses of bourbon. Giving one to Eve, he took a swallow of the other. "I've been dreading this conversation for five years," he told her. "I had hoped to never have to talk to you about this, but with recent developments I think you need to know the truth."

"What is the truth Dad?"

...

From the adjoining bathroom, Marcus heard more than saw Eve enter the bedroom he had been offered. "I got hold of Katerina," he called in to her. "She'll be by in a couple of hours with some of my things... " He trailed off as he saw the tears streaming down her face. "Eve," He took her in his arms. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"My f-father," she sobbed. "He has the Frankenstein books. He's had them all along. He used them Marcus. All of his research, all of his advances in transplant work, everything he's ever done has all been based on Frankenstein's work. But that's not all. He did something else based on the journals."

"What? Eve, what did he do?"

Her voice was little more than a whisper, "He made me."

...

_Twenty minutes earlier_

"I've never been married Eve. And until you woke up five years ago, I never had a daughter." Carlton opened the hidden safe and removed the wooden box from it. Setting the box on his desk and unlocking it he lifted the lid and allowed Eve to see the contents. As the meaning of what she was looking at sunk in she picked up her glass and drained it in one swallow.

In the box were a stack of old books, well worn with time and use. The one on top was titled _The Diary of Heinrich Frankenstein_. Moving it aside she saw _Notes and Memorandum by Wolf Frankenstein_ and _Surgical Notes by Ludwig Frankenstein_.

"Dad," she said in hushed awe, "you've had these all along?"

"I bought them in an estate sale thirty years ago," he confessed. "At first I thought they were simply elaborate forgeries, but once I started reading them I realized that the procedures detailed within were medically sound, if unorthodox. I began studying the journals in detail and realized that with some modern refinements portions of Frankenstein's work could be used to improve the success rates of transplant surgeries by a tremendous degree. Everything I've done has been based on these books. Everything from the tissue preservatives that keep donor organs viable longer to the anti-rejection treatments that make it easier to match donors to recipients. And from the first moment I realized the journals were legitimate, I've had this tiny, persistent voice in the back of my mind saying _Try the experiment, try it_. For the most part I was able to resist the temptation, but seven years ago I began construction of the surgical suite in the north wing. I told myself that it would make an ideal private clinic I could use to serve the town, but I never told anyone about it." He looked at his empty glass and poured himself another, offering the bottle to Eve. She just shook her head, not willing to trust her voice.

Carlton continued, "Six years ago I received a medical cadaver for use in research purposes. A Jane Doe who had died of a brain aneurism. The autopsy showed that even without the aneurism she would have been dead within six months from massive organ failure brought on by long-term heavy drug abuse. I decided to rebuild her, justifying it as research for techniques I had only studied, but not yet put into practice. Over the course of a year I acquired all of the organs and parts I needed to restore that nameless cadaver to the semblance of health. Finally it was time to place a healthy brain inside her skull. Attaching the brain stem to the spinal chord was the single most gruelling micro-surgery I have ever attempted. Thirty-six hours non-stop. When finished, I placed her in a nutrient bath to flush the last traces of the tissue preservative from her system and went to get some sleep." He paused a moment not looking at Eve, because if he saw the look of horror on her face he'd never be able to continue, and he needed to finish his tale now.

"The only way to be sure I had connected the brain correctly was to complete the Frankenstein Experiment. So I connected her to the apparatus and turned it on. When I shut everything down and examined her she was alive. Heartbeat, respiration, even low-level brain activity. I swore to my self right then and there that I would not make the same mistakes Frankenstein had with his Creation. I would never treat her as an experiment or a _thing_, she was a human being deserving of all the love and affection I could give her. You remained in a coma for a few days, during which time I moved you to the recovery room. Do you remember the first thing I said to you when you woke up?"

Eve's voice was hushed, "_Hello Eve, I'm your father._"

...

Marcus sat in stunned silence as Eve recounted what Carlton had revealed to her. As she finished she broke down completely, her body wracked in uncontrollable sobs. He took her in his arms and held her close until her sobs began to settle then he gently lifted her face to look at him. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly, his own tears mingling with hers.

...

_Seacrest Police Department_

Mac Garvey was just getting ready to go home early for a change. Friday night had been relatively quiet and he had managed to close most of his case load with surprising ease. Now he just wanted to escape before fate realized that he actually had some free time. He had almost reached the door when Simms walked in with a number of file folders.

"This just got tossed our way," he apologized, knowing how the older detective felt about weekends.

"What is it?" Garvey asked resignedly, heading back to his desk.

"Jackson 'Party Boy' Bernes, found dead in the park Friday morning. He's got a rap sheet, mostly purse snatchings and muggings, some drug possession charges, did a nickel a few years back. Park groundskeeper found him with his head torn off and his heart ripped out."

"Does it look like our 'wild animal' from a few weeks ago?"

"Forensics found some hairs in the chest wound," Simms replied. "Perfect match for the hairs we found in the bent gun from that scene. And there's more. Party Boy was clutching a blood-stained knife in his hand. DNA matched it to Marcus Talbot."

"How did we get a DNA sample from Talbot?" Garvey asked.

"From a discarded coffee cup retrieved from a public trash receptacle," Simms explained. "I tried calling him already. Seems that no one's seen or heard from him since he left for a date on Thursday evening."

"Of course he's missing," Garvey groused. "If he was here that might actually make our job easy. I don't suppose anyone knows who his date was with?"

"Well, at the coffee shop I got the cup from he was sitting and talking with a girl. They seemed to be very friendly. If I had to guess, I'd say she would be the one." Simms checked his notes. "Campus security identified her as Eve Carlton. Her father is Dr. Richard Carlton, a surgeon at Seacrest General."

"Let's have a talk with her then, see if she can shed any light on Talbot's whereabouts," Garvey suggested. "What's in the other file you have there?"

"We found some bloody finger prints when Talbot's apartment was burglarized last week. No match in our system, but because of the international roots I sent them to Interpol and they got a match. Our giant vagrant has been busy. Nearly three dozen murders in seven countries over the last four years." Simms pulled one particular page from the file. "And this." He handed the page to Garvey.

"What the hell?! There's no way this can be right."

Simms was sympathetic. "I don't get it either, but those prints from last week match prints from a _really_ old case in Vasaria. According to the file, in Nineteen Eighteen a severely disfigured lunatic was captured in the town of Vasaria. He was photographed and fingerprinted before being transferred to the custody of a local physician. He escaped custody and was apparently never seen again. He was described as 'being of gigantic stature and hideously scarred and disfigured'." He held up an old photograph.

"Mother of God," Garvey exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like that outside of horror movies."

"Horror is right," Simms agreed. "But this is no movie. I did some research and I think I know who, or more appropriately _what_, this is." He gestured to the photo. "How much do you know about the Frankenstein Monster?"

...

_Carlton Home_

Marcus had lost track of how long he had been just sitting there, holding Eve, trying to comfort her. She had eventually stopped crying and simply allowed herself to be cradled in Marcus's arms. She felt safe with him, complete, as if this was where she belonged. The comfortable silence was broken by a knock on the bedroom door.

"Eve?" Carlton's voice was slightly muffled by the heavy oak door. "There are two detectives here to speak with you." He opened the door and peered in. " It's about Marcus. Apparently he's gone missing." He looked at the younger man and held a finger to his lips. Marcus nodded.

Eve whispered to Marcus, "I'll get rid of them." She kissed him, dried her eyes and went downstairs.

As she approached the two policemen, Eve was struck by the look in the older one's eyes. There was a weariness in his gaze, as if he had seen too many horrors in his lifetime. Given the events and revelations of the past few days she could relate.

"Gentlemen," she greeted the detectives with a worried expression on her face. "My father said you wanted to talk with me about Marcus. Is he all right? Has something happened to him?"

"That's what we'd like to find out Miss Carlton," The older man answered. "I'm Inspector Garvey, this is Sergeant Simms. When was the last time you saw Marcus Talbot?"

"Thursday evening," she responded. "We went out to dinner, had a few drinks, danced for a while, then he dropped me off near my dorm and kissed me goodnight. What's this all about?"

Simms held out a photograph, "Have you ever seen this man before?"

Eve immediately recognized the mugger who had attacked them in the park. Giving no sign, she shook her head and said, "No, who is he?"

Garvey answered, "A petty thief, small time mugger. We found his body in Monument Park on Friday morning."

"He was holding a bloody knife in his hand," Simms added. "Marcus Talbot's blood."

Eve held a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God," she gasped. She sat down on a small bench near the foyer entrance. "Oh my God. You've got to find him. Please find him and let him be all right." She looked up at the detectives, "Will you please let me know when you find him?"

"Of course," Garvey reassured her. He held out a business card, "In the meantime, if you think of anything that might help us, anything at all, please call me." Eve nodded as she accepted the card.

Eve got up and opened the door for them, only to be nearly rapped in the nose as Bette reached up to knock. "Eve! Ohmigod! I'm so sorry, I didn't expect you to be right there and I was just going to knock and there you were and... and you've got company."

Eve smiled in spite of herself, "Bette, breathe. These gentlemen are detectives. They were telling me that Marcus is missing and might be hurt somewhere."

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry," Bette dropped the back pack she was carrying and wrapped Eve in a hug. "How are you holding up?"

"I'll be fine. Detectives, this is my roommate Bette Parker and," she added, noticing Katerina standing quietly in the background, "her... aunt." Katerina raised one eyebrow at the introduction and nodded politely to Garvey and Simms.

"Ladies," Garvey greeted the newcomers. "I don't suppose either of you knows anything about where Marcus Talbot might be?"

"Haven't a clue," said Bette.

"No idea whatsoever," answered Katerina.

"Well, thank you anyway Miss Parker, Ms... I don't think I caught your name?"

"Katerina... Kalderash."

Both of Garvey's eyebrows went up as he scribbled the name in his notebook. "If you hear from Mr. Talbot please let us know." He and Simms walked down the drive to their car.

Simms asked, "What's your take, Mac?"

"She's lying," Garvey replied. "Did you notice her eyes? All puffy and red like she'd been crying. I think she knows where Talbot is _and_ whatever it is that's happened to him."

"So we keep an eye on her now too?"

"_Very_ carefully," Garvey advised. "The Carltons are one of the founding families in this town. They've been here since before the Revolutionary War. Describing them as _Old Money_ is an understatement."

"So her father could make life difficult for us if we screw this up, huh."

"Difficult? With his connections we'd be pretty much unemployable anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard."

...

Eve closed the door behind the departing detectives and turned to the two newcomers. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what the _hell_ are you doing here Bette?"

Bette was gazing at Eve strangely, as if seeing her for the first time. Shaking herself out of her reverie she answered, "I was with Katerina when Marcus called. I want to help."

Katerina explained, "Bette had close encounters with both the Monster and the Wolf Man last weekend. We had to explain to her what was going on."

"Define _close_," Eve demanded as she led the women upstairs.

"Let's see," Bette paused for an uncharacteristic breath. "The big patchwork one scared the crap out of me and then the furry one tried to _eat_ me and not in a nice, fun make me scream like a porn star kind of way either."

"_Way_ too much information Bette," Eve knocked on Marcus's bedroom door. "Your clothes have arrived," She handed him the backpack when he answered. "We'll be waiting downstairs in the library."

"I'll be down in a few minutes," he told her. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Eventually," Eve answered. "I'm just made that way I guess."

In the library, Carlton had laid out a generous supply of coffee, tea, and doughnuts. By the time the first pot was half finished everyone gathered had been brought up to date on the histories of the Frankenstein Monster, the Wolf Man, and their activities in Seacrest. Eve had related the truth of her origin, drawing looks of sympathy from Bette and incredulity from Katerina.

Katerina was the first to speak. "It's obvious to me that someone here in Seacrest knows that Marcus is a werewolf and how to kill him. That is something that will have to be dealt with somehow."

"How can you be so certain of that?" Carlton wanted to know.

"The bullet you removed was made of silver, was it not?"

"Yes."

"A werewolf cannot heal injuries inflicted by silver weapons," she explained. "With a normal bullet, the wound would have healed almost instantly."

"And since most people don't just happen to have silver bullets lying around," Marcus added, "the shooter had to have had one specially made. And I'm pretty sure I know who it is."

"Don't keep us in suspense, Marcus," Eve spoke up. "Tell us."

The room went quiet as Marcus announced, "Konrad Frankenstein."

"That's a serious accusation to make Marcus," Carlton opined. "What sort of proof do you have to back it up?"

"Do you remember when he was asking us about the journals last week?"

"Yes, I recall you two didn't exactly hit it off."

"When I said he smelled wrong I wasn't speaking metaphorically," Marcus explained. "There was something about his scent that bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it at the time. When I got home that night I caught the scent of the Monster outside my apartment building. I let the Wolf Man out in order to be better able to track him and kill him when I found him. That was the night Bette had her meetings with both of them. When I finally got home in the morning the police informed me that my apartment was still a crime scene. I had been burglarized and my building's caretaker murdered. They let me in to see if anything was missing and I found the Monster's scent all over the place. That's when it clicked. Konrad had just a hint of the Monster in his scent, as if he had been in contact with it in the last few days."

"Was anything missing?" Eve asked.

"I told the police no, but Lawrence Talbot's memoir was gone," Marcus revealed.

"Sentimental value aside," Carlton enquired, "how dangerous could that be?"

"Very dangerous, and for two different reasons," Marcus stated. "First, the memoir confirms that Lawrence was actually a werewolf. It wouldn't take a huge stretch to assume that I may have inherited the condition."

"What's the second reason?" Bette spoke up.

"Lawrence was an engineer, _and _ he had access to the Frankenstein journals. He helped Dr. Mannering restore and modify Ludwig's laboratory equipment according to Heinrich's designs. He transcribed Heinrich's notes on his apparatus and made detailed notes on his own work. His memoir essentially contains detailed instructions on how to build the energy induction device that Heinrich Frankenstein used to bring his Creation to life."

"Still, Konrad is a historian not a scientist," Carlton persisted.

"We have only his word for that," Marcus countered. "And if he's in league with the Monster we can't trust him any further than Bette can throw him."

"He can't be trusted that far," Katerina put in. "After Marcus told me about him last week I contacted my nephew, the Chief Constable in Vasaria, and had him do a background check on this Konrad Frankenstein. He has a medical degree from Goldstadt Medical College in Switzerland, the same college that Heinrich Frankenstein attended. He is a fully accredited physician and surgeon."

"So he's only got half of what he needs," Eve commented. "He knows how to bring a creation to life but not how to build one. And for that he needs the Frankenstein journals, right?"

"Not necessarily," cautioned Marcus. "Richard, how many articles have you published about your work over the years?"

"Dozens," was Carlton's answer. "I've been published on everything I've done from... oh my God."

"Exactly," Marcus confirmed. "All he has to do is gather up the collected works of Dr. Richard Carlton and he has a fairly complete instruction manual on how to build a human being."

"What I don't get," Bette spoke up, "is why is the Monster helping Konrad? I mean if it's as dangerous as you guys say and I'm not contesting that point 'cause of running into it last week, but isn't it as likely to squish Konrad as look at him?"

"Not if Konrad can give him something he wants," Carlton told her. "And he is in a position to give the Monster something he wants more than anything in the world."

"What's that?" Bette asked.

"A companion," Eve answered. "Think about it. He think he's the only one of his kind there is. That must be incredibly lonely."

"It's the same reason he took Wolf Frankenstein's young son," Carlton added. "The journals talk about a former mentor of Heinrich's, a Dr. Pretorius. He had been experimenting along similar lines of creating life, but using techniques that were probably closer to a primitive form of genetic engineering. Together, he and the Monster blackmailed Heinrich into helping construct a woman, a Bride for the Monster. When they brought her to life she would scream every time she saw the Monster. In his rage and despair he blew up the lab with Pretorius and the Bride inside, killing them both. Heinrich escaped and never experimented along those lines again."

"So where does all this lead us?" Katerina asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"First we need to find out where Konrad is hiding himself and the Monster," Marcus suggested. "Once we know that, we can do some careful snooping to figure out how much progress they've made."

"I can probably find out where they are," Bette piped up. Everyone looked at her. "What? I have a cousin who works in real estate. Konrad's got to have a roof over his head right?"

"Good thinking Bette," Katerina encouraged her. "Just be discreet and careful, OK?"

"If he's going to build a body," Carlton added, "there's only so many places to get the necessary parts legally, and I know all of them. I'll make a few discreet enquiries as well and see if anyone's been acquiring everything Konrad will need."

"Now I just need to find a safe place to hide out for the next little while," Marcus said.

"Why do you need to hide?" Bette asked him.

"Konrad thinks I'm dead," he explained. "It's to our advantage to let him keep on thinking that until we figure out our next step."

"You can stay here," Eve offered. "We have plenty of room."

"Absolutely," her father agreed. "You can use the room you're in now and we can have a few more of your things quietly brought over."

"All right," Marcus accepted. "My only concern with this arrangement is that the Full Moon begins its cycle on Thursday night. Do you have a secure place where I can be confined during those three nights?"

Carlton considered a moment, "No, I'm afraid not."

"Then I'll have to sneak over to Katerina's before Moonrise. She has a reinforced steel cage in her cellar for just that purpose."

Katerina shrugged as the group stared at her. "There's no point in taking needless chances."

"I thought you were supposed to be able to keep him calm?" Eve sounded slightly accusing.

"I can, but it requires considerable concentration and effort," Katerina clarified. "By the third night I'm usually exhausted, so as a last resort I keep this handy." She placed a pistol on the table. "It's a veterinary tranquilizer pistol loaded with Ketamine." Marcus's eyes bugged out.

Bette asked, "What's Ketamine?"

"A powerful tranquilizer," Carlton explained. "Veterinarians typically use it on horses." He looked at Katerina. "What dosage do you use?"

"Enough to put a Clydesdale into a coma," she replied calmly. "I find that keeps the Wolf Man mellow for five or six hours."

"I can see the practicality of the cage," Eve said, "But you are not going to use that on Marcus if I have anything to say about it. I'm going to sit up with him during his cycle as well."

Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but Eve cut him off, "My mind is made up, Marcus. We've already seen that my scent alone can have a calming effect on you."

"Amen to that," Bette muttered.

"And, going by Bette's description," she went on, "You were beginning to change back the other night just before you were shot." She grasped his hand. "I love you Marcus, and I am not going to let you go through this alone."

Marcus simply smiled and kissed the back of her hand, love shining in his eyes.

...

_Konrad Frankenstein's farm_

"I'll be able to handle it from here, thank you," Konrad told the workmen who had just delivered the last, most important item he needed. He signed the bill of lading and waved them off.

As soon as the truck was out of sight he called the Monster out of the barn. "Bring the trolley. We need to get this inside and connected to the power supply quickly."

With the help of a wheeled hand-truck the Monster easily maneuvered the large crate into position. Working with crowbars, the two removed the lid and sides revealing what looked like a large freezer. Konrad plugged it into a newly installed power outlet and checked an indicator panel on the side.

"Excellent," he let out a sigh of relief. "The battery was sufficient to maintain a proper temperature during transport. There's no sign of any degradation."

"What?" the Monster gestured at the coffin-sized unit.

Konrad unlocked it. "See for yourself," he said.

The Monster opened the lid and peered inside. He just stood there, rapt at the sight within.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Konrad asked, looking at the patchwork body of a human woman suspended in liquid inside the cooling tank. "She represents three years of my life, gathering parts from various sources. Not always legally, but always discreetly and carefully, with an eye to the quality of the materials. She's not quite complete though. She still needs eyes and a brain."

"How long?" the Monster wanted to know.

"The eyes are fairly easy," answered Konrad. "It may take a little longer to find just the right brain, but I have a few ideas on where to look."


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 9_

_Carlton Home_

"Are you all right Marcus?" Eve's voice was tinged with concern. "You seem a little bit... on edge."

"Just a case of cabin fever," he replied. "Three days of not leaving the house is starting to wear on me, even if it was my idea. Plus the Full Moon rises tomorrow night and I always get a little irritable around that time. Has Bette found anything from her real estate contact?"

"No, he's out of town on business and doesn't get back until tomorrow evening," she told him. "On the plus side though, my father has been checking the various medical registries and hasn't been able to find any signs that someone's been acquiring the raw materials, so to speak, so we probably have a bit of time before Konrad puts his plans in motion."

"That's good at least," he answered. "You know, you really don't need to come check up on me every day, not that I'm complaining, but you did mention that the commute is the reason you live in the dorms during the week."

"I know, but there's something at the end of the drive that makes the trip very worthwhile."

"And what might that be?" he asked with a smile.

"This." Eve put her arms around the back of his head and pulled Marcus down into a slow, lingering kiss.

"It's amazing," he said when he could breathe again. "I think you've found a cure for cabin fever. I feel more relaxed already."

"Are you up for some more therapy?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Maybe later. Right now I'd like to hear more of the Story of You," Marcus gestured to an open photo album on the library table. "Your father must have forgotten to put it away."

Eve looked at the album. It was open to a page showing several pictures of her with an athletic looking young man with blonde hair and brown eyes. "The two of you look happy," Marcus commented.

"We were," she replied. "His name is Mike Parks. He was studying Law on a full baseball scholarship. We were dating fairly steadily for most of last year."

"What happened?"

"His sister died. A car accident I think. Anyway, he transferred all his credits to a school closer to his family in Montana after that. We still keep in touch on Facebook. He says he's met a girl he's really serious about, even more so than he was about me."

"It's good that you've been able to end things properly with him and still keep his friendship," Marcus said thoughtfully. "Believe me, when a relationship just... ends suddenly with no goodbyes or any kind of closure it tears something inside of you."

"You're talking about Kate." Eve's insight wasn't a question.

Marcus nodded. "For four years I've held onto that pain because I thought it was all I had left of her. Now I realize that there are some wonderful memories of the times we had together. I'm pretty sure that wherever she is now, she's got this expression on her face that says _It's about time!_"

Eve considered that. "She's right, it is about time that you let go of the past and started living again."

"How did you get to be so insightful?"

"I'm a woman," she answered. "Where men are concerned it's not that hard to do."

"You're right though," Marcus said, "for the first time in a long time, I'm thinking about a future. I had a long talk with your father the other day."

"What about?" Carlton was a touchy subject with Eve right now. She hadn't spoken to him since the weekend.

"I asked if he could start researching a cure for my condition. We discussed the treatment Dr. Edelmann effectively used to cure Lawrence and then he ran me through a huge battery of tests up in his lab in the north wing. He said there are still a few tests he would like to run, but he doesn't have the equipment here so we'll have to wait until I can safely enter a hospital."

"Does he think it's possible?" Eve asked.

Marcus replied, "He says I should be cautiously optimistic."

Eve smiled, "That means he can do it. You're in good hands, Marcus. He's probably the best doctor in the world for what you need."

"It sounds to me almost like you've forgiven him."

"Forgiven him for what?" she asked. "For giving me life? Fathers have been doing that for their children since time began. I can't really be mad at him for that. The thing I'm most angry about is The Lie. And I can understand why he lied to me about my origins. He wanted me to have a relatively, semi-normal life. If he'd told me straight out that he had cobbled me together from spare parts I would have felt isolated and alienated and more like a freak than I did as an amnesiac accident victim. It's just that I've spent a good part of my life wondering about my mother and my life before and now the hope that my memory would return is gone. In a way I can understand how you feel, because without a false past to cling to I can move forward with my life. So yeah, I can forgive him. He is my father after all."

"So when are you going to tell him that?" Marcus was smiling at her.

"On the weekend," she answered glibly. "He can stew until then. So what do you see in your future?"

"A lot more of this." Marcus cupped her chin in his hand and lifting her face up to his, leaned down to kiss her.

...

_Konrad Frankenstein's farm_

Konrad was whistling to himself as he pulled his car into the drive. The contents of the medical cooler in the trunk were in large part responsible for his good mood. He was still whistling as he carried the cooler into the barn and closed the door behind him. "Just wait until you see what I've got in here," he told the looming Monster as he placed his precious cargo on the laboratory counter-top.

Donning a lab coat and a pair of sterile exam gloves he opened the cooler and carefully removed a pair of glass cylinders, each containing a human eye floating in a liquid suspension. "Beautiful, aren't they? A black market contact in Boston was able to obtain them for me." The Monster looked unimpressed.

"Now that we have her eyes we can begin. I'll install these and attach the ocular muscles. Then we can take steps to procure the brain. I've given that a great deal of thought. We know from your own example that conscious memories do not survive the revivification process but unconscious processes do. Things that are deeply ingrained, such as language and certain behavioural patterns and so on. That is why the original Bride reacted so negatively to you. Young women of the time were raised to be overly sensitive and delicate. Today's women are a different breed, stronger and more wilful. What we need is a young woman who will not be put off by your disfigurements, not because of an acquired sense of aesthetics, but because she views herself as flawed or disfigured. And I believe I know just where to find such a woman."

While he was talking Konrad carefully removed one of the eyes from its container and began examining it under the microscope. "No!" he exclaimed suddenly, "No, no, no!" He grabbed the other eye and examined it as well, then angrily threw both eyes against the wall. "Damn it all to Hell! They both show early signs of Retinitis Pigmentosa! These eyes are going blind! They're useless! Now I have to find a new pair!" He continued to rant and rave, vowing bloody vengeance the black marketeer who had sold him the eyes in the first place, and not noticing when the Monster quietly slipped out of the barn door.

...

_Outskirts of Seacrest_

Katerina's house was a modest two storey structure on a large treed lot with the nearest neighbour nearly a quarter mile away. _Quiet, private and isolated_ thought Eve as she rang the doorbell. _Perfect for those nights you need to keep a snarling werewolf in your cellar_. Katerina answered the door. "Welcome Miss Carlton," she greeted. "Are you certain you wish to do this?"

"Absolutely," Eve answered with no hesitation.

"Then come in. Marcus is just finishing his dinner."

She followed the gypsy into the kitchen where Marcus was polishing off the last of what appeared to have been a very large steak. Her face lit up in a huge smile at the sight of him. "If I'd known this was going to be a dinner date I wouldn't have spoiled my appetite."

Marcus held up one finger as he chewed and swallowed his last mouthful. "We've found from experience that the Wolf Man is a little more tractable with a full belly," he explained.

"Makes sense," Eve agreed. "My dad gets like that after a big meal like Thanksgiving dinner. He calls it Puppy Syndrome."

"I'm pretty sure Katerina spikes the food with some kind of sedative as well," Marcus added with a grin. Katerina kept a carefully innocent expression in the face of the glare Eve threw her way.

"So what's next?" Eve wanted to know. "Do we go down and make you all cozy in your kennel?"

"I wish you'd take this more seriously Eve," Marcus admonished. "You've seen what I become, how dangerous I am."

"I'm deadly serious Marcus," she responded. "There are three things running through my mind right now that help me deal with all this. The first is a quote by Byron – _If I laugh at any mortal thing, 'tis that I might not weep_. The second is how much I love you. The third is a dream I had shortly after we met, of me petting a huge fierce-looking dog with your eyes."

Katerina opened the cellar door and beckoned to Eve, "Come with me and I'll show you what we have set up while Marcus finishes getting ready."

Eve's eyes widened at the sight of the cage, a seven foot cube constructed out of one inch steel bars. Katerina demonstrated the three different latches that combined to lock the cage securely. "Marcus can open the door easily of course, but the Wolf Man lacks the dexterity necessary to operate any of the locking mechanisms," she explained.

In addition to the cage there were two chairs, an assortment of blankets and cushions, and a large pot of coffee. "I brought the extra chair and the blankets for your use," Katerina told her. "I wasn't sure what you would need to make yourself comfortable."

"What about Marcus's comfort?" Eve asked.

"The Wolf Man's frustration at being confined is so great that he destroys anything in the cage with him," Katerina told her. "It got expensive to be replacing the mattress every month." She placed the tranquilizer gun on a small table between the two chairs. "This stays within reach of one of us at all times." Eve looked at the weapon with distaste.

Marcus walked down the stairs. "Is everyone ready?" he asked.

"No, but let's do this anyway," Eve told him as he entered the cage and Katerina secured the latches.

"Keep back Eve," Marcus warned as she took a step towards him. "For safety's sake stay at least an arm's length from the bars. Please." She nodded reluctantly. "The moon will rise in just a few more minutes."

Katerina motioned her farther back, "It would be best if you stay behind me until he is fully transformed. I will need a few moments to prepare myself." Eve retreated to the foot of the stairs and sat down to watch.

The older woman lit a candle beneath a glass bowl of oil on a stand and mixed a spoonful of crushed herbs into it. A pleasant fragrance filled the cellar as the mixture warmed. Katerina sat with her eyes closed and her lips moving in a silent mantra as the first rays of the Full Moon's light shone through the small window and fell upon Marcus in his cage.

Eve watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as his flesh began to ripple and shift. Existing muscles expanded and new muscles grew in ways not normal for a human body. His bones cracked and rearranged themselves, altering the proportions of his body. His shins shortened as his feet lengthened, with his heels lifting off the ground so that he walked on the balls of his feet and toes, which had shortened and thickened into wolf-like paws. His finger- and toe-nails lengthened and thickened into wickedly sharp claws and thick grey-brown fur sprouted all over his body. The worst part though was his face. While his features shifted and took on a decidedly lupine cast with slightly enlarged jaws and elongated canine teeth, she realized with a shock that he was still recognizable as Marcus.

In less than a minute the change was complete and the Wolf Man began stalking back and forth along the cage wall closest to Katerina, never taking his eyes off of her. Without breaking eye contact with the caged werewolf she motioned Eve forwards. "Walk slowly and make no sudden moves. He is as calm as he ever gets now, so do not startle him."

"This is calm?" Eve asked incredulously. "He looks like a bundle of nervous energy."

"As opposed to raging at the cage and threatening to tear the bars out, yes. This is calm," the gypsy told her. "Move behind me and take your seat please. This is going to be a long night."

As she moved out of Katerina's shadow, the Wolf Man caught sight of Eve. Immediately he stopped pacing and reached through the bars to her, whining, with a pleading expression on his face. Ignoring Katerina's warnings she stepped towards the cage and hesitantly reached out to stroke the fur on the back of his outstretched hand. The werewolf shuddered in near bliss and collapsed to his knees on the cage floor, where he sat looking at Eve with an expression of longing on his face.

"It's all right Katerina," she said with a small smile, seeing the tranquilizer gun in the other woman's hands. "He won't hurt me." She began arranging several cushions and blankets on the floor beside the cage and sat down on them. The Wolf Man scampered over to her and curled up on the cage floor with one clawed hand extended through the bars to rest on Eve's lap where she covered it with her own hand.

They sat like that for several hours, with Eve holding the Wolf Man's hand, sometimes reaching through the bars to stroke his head, sometimes singing softly to him. Katerina just sat and watched in awe of the power that a woman's love held over one of the most fearsome monsters known to her people.

Sometime after midnight, she stood and stretched, "I'm going to make some more coffee. Will you be all right for a few minutes?"

"We'll be fine Katerina," Eve responded. "Don't worry about us."

As soon as the gypsy disappeared into the kitchen upstairs, Eve began shoving her cushions and blankets through the bars into the cage. Getting to her feet, she quickly unlocked the door and closed it behind her, locking herself in the cage with the Wolf Man. Hearing the click of the latches, Katerina hurried down the stairs, "Eve! What are you doing?"

"Just getting more comfortable Katerina. There's nothing to be afraid of." She arranged the cushions on the floor in the corner of the cage and sat down with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The Wolf Man promptly curled up on some cushions she had laid out for him and went to sleep with his head cradled in Eve's lap.

...

_Downtown Seacrest_

Claire Munro was not having a good day. Mason's tavern, where she was a waitress, had been dead all evening. Her feet were killing her because of the stupidly high heels her pig of a boss insisted all the girls wear, her butt was probably bruised from the one busy table full of obnoxious drunks who kept pinching her, and to top it all off her boyfriend had stormed out when she told him her period was late. Now, digging in her purse, she realized that she had left her keys in her apartment and since the outside doors locked automatically, she was going to have to climb the fire escape and break in through her own window.

In the alley behind her building she began stacking trash cans so that she could climb up to the retracted fire escape ladder. One of the cans, with a large dent in its side, collapsed under her weight. Luckily for her bones, if not her ego, she landed on a relatively soft trash bag that burst with the impact, covering her with foul-smelling garbage. "Great," she groused, "Just great. Can this day _possibly_ get any worse?"

Extricating herself from the smelly mess, she was attempting to brush the worst of it off her clothes when a sound from the other side of the alley made her freeze. Turning towards the sound she felt her heart clench in fear as an impossibly huge shadow separated from the darkness. A hoarse, rasping voice said "Beautiful eyes." The Frankenstein Monster stepped into the light of the moon and reached for her. At the feel of his hands on her arms she screamed, then Clair Munro's bad day just... ended.

...

Detective Sergeant Al Simms was on his way home from the nearby convenience store when he heard the sounds of a struggle and a scream from an alley as he passed by. Drawing his sidearm, he entered the alleyway cautiously. Hearing sounds of movement from behind a dumpster halfway down the lane he called out, "Police! Come out in the open with your hands up!"

The figure that emerged was most definitely _not_ what he was expecting. The scarred patchwork giant before him looked as if it had been stitched together from spare parts, none of which quite matched. The Monster stared at Simms impassively for a few seconds then dropped the lifeless body of Clair Munro and stalked towards the detective standing between him and escape.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" Simms yelled. The Creature kept coming and he fired. The huge frame flinched slightly as the bullet struck its chest. It kept coming. Simms fired and hit twice more, with the Monster shrugging the nine mm rounds off as if they were less than mosquitoes.

Before he could fire a fourth time Simms found his gun hand gripped in the Creature's monstrous hand. It squeezed and he screamed as the bones in his hand shattered and ground against each other. The gun fell from Simms's mangled grip as the Monster picked him up by his jacket front. The giant just looked at him for a moment and then casually tossed Simms aside as if he were a rag doll. He struck against a guard rail around a basement fire exit and heard rather than felt something in his lower back snap before he tumbled over and down to the concrete steps below. As the Monster picked up the body it had dropped and left, Simms struggled to reach his cell phone. Eventually he heard the voice on the other end, "Nine-One-One. What is your emergency?"

He was barely able to gasp out, "Off... officer down..." before blackness took him.

...

_Katerina's Home_

It was an hour past dawn when Marcus opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. He felt a hand softly stroking his hair and heard a gentle voice say "Good morning, sleepy-head."

Sitting up with a start, he realized who the voice belonged to and exactly where she was. "Eve! What are you doing in here with me? Are you all right? Did I... did I hurt you?" The words just came out in a tumble.

Eve started gathering up the bedding. "I'm fine Marcus, not a scratch. If you must know, you were a perfect gentleman all night long."

"All... all night?" Marcus was dumbfounded.

"It's true," Katerina put in. "If I hadn't seen it for myself I would never have believed it to be possible. The fearsome Wolf Man curled up and twitching in his sleep like a contented puppy."

"Of all the various ways I can think of to describe a werewolf," Marcus said with a wry smile, "_puppy_ is not one of them."

"I can set up a camcorder tonight if you want to see for yourself," Eve offered.

"I'll... have to think about that for a while," he answered uncertainly.

Katerina was thoughtful, "As powerful as Eve's influence is I doubt it would stand up against the Wolf's innate Bloodlust."

"What do you mean?" Eve was confused. "The Wolf Man started to calm down at the sight of me right after ripping a mugger apart last week, right before you got shot." She looked at Marcus.

"If a werewolf tastes blood," Katerina clarified, "it loses all vestiges of humanity and goes completely berserk, killing and feeding until it is sated or the dawn comes."

"Oh," was all Eve could say.

"And on that cheerful note I am going to go get some rest," Katerina told them. "You two youngsters may have slept the night away, but I was awake all night just to be safe. If you want some breakfast, you're welcome to whatever is in the kitchen. Just lock up when you leave please."

...

_Konrad Frankenstein's Farm_

Konrad was still fuming when the Monster returned to the refurbished barn. "Where the hell have you been?" he yelled. Turning around he saw the Creature lay a body on the work table with surprising gentleness. "And what the hell is that?"

Frankenstein's creation simply gestured at the corpse of Clair Munro and said, "Beautiful eyes."

Konrad paused in his pacing, "Eyes you say? Let me have a look." He picked up the appropriate scope and proceeded to exam the body's eyes carefully. "Beautiful indeed. They're perfect. You've done well my friend. I'll remove these and then we can dispose of the rest."

Forty-five minutes of careful work later a pair of crystal blue eyes were floating in a jar that Konrad placed in the refrigeration unit. "Now all we need is a brain that fits the criteria I've already described and a surgeon to install it," he told his giant accomplice.

"You do it," the Monster replied.

"I wish that I could," Konrad responded, "but I am unable to perform that particular operation. As much as it galls me to admit to any kind of weakness, I have noticed a faint tremor in my hands in recent months. It's not enough to prevent me performing relatively simple surgeries but it does mean that I cannot do the extremely complex micro-neural-surgery required to connect the optic nerves and brain stem. We shall have to convince another surgeon to do that for us. Someone with a rare combination of skill, talent, and genius. Fortunately such a prodigy lives within easy reach of us. Dr. Richard Carlton."

"Won't do it."

"Of course he won't," Konrad agreed. "At least not of his own volition. Which is why we need to apply some leverage."

...

_Seacrest College Campus_

Eve had just finished loading some borrowed video equipment into her car. Marcus hadn't exactly said he would agree to being videoed during his transformation yet, but if he did say yes at least this way she had everything on hand. Looking at her watch she saw that she had a little over twenty minutes to get to her last class of the day and after that off to Katerina's to set up all this video gear. She was so preoccupied with her plans for the weekend she didn't realize anything was wrong until an impossibly strong hand pressed a sweet-smelling rag over her mouth and nose. Another arm wrapped around her arms and torso, lifting her off the ground. As the chloroform stole her consciousness it vaguely registered that she was being kidnapped.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 10_

_Seacrest General Hospital_

A dishevelled looking Mac Garvey rushed through the Emergency Ward towards the Intensive Care Unit. Catching sight of a thirty-something woman who looked as if she'd been crying a lot, he slowed and approached her. "Bea, I just heard. How is he?"

Beatrice Simms looked relieved at the sound of his voice, "Thank God you're here Mac. I really don't know what happened. He went out to get me some medication for a cold and the next thing a uniformed officer is at the door telling me Al's been injured and is in the hospital. All I've been able to find out so far is that he's in bad shape, but no specifics."

"Excuse me. Are you Mrs. Simms?" someone interrupted. She nodded. "I'm Dr. Watters. I've got an update on your husband's condition."

"How... how is he?" she stammered.

"I don't know what happened to him to cause such severe injuries, but the prognosis is not good. His right hand was crushed beyond anyone's ability to repair. Some of the bones were ground almost to powder. We were forced to amputate. As well he suffered a severe spinal fracture to the lower back. Two vertebrae were fractured and shards of bone severed the spinal cord. He is completely paralysed from the waist down. It's highly unlikely that he will ever walk again. I'm very sorry that I couldn't bring you better news."

Beatrice broke down and buried her face in Garvey's shoulder, her body wracked with grief. "When can we speak with him Doctor?" he asked.

"Are you family?"

Garvey flashed his badge, "I'm his partner."

"Close enough. He's awake but sedated, so he's drifting in and out of consciousness. You can see him for a few minutes."

"Thank you," Garvey said.

Beatrice dried her eyes and went in first. Garvey watched for a few moments through the observation window before drawing the blinds to give them some privacy. After about five minutes she came out, looking more composed. "He wants to talk to you Mac."

He nodded and entered. Simms lay there hooked up to all manner of unidentifiable medical contraptions. His right arm was heavily bandaged at the end and noticeably shorter than his left. Garvey swallowed the lump in his throat and approached his partner and friend. Simms opened his eyes and spoke, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, "It was him, Mac. The Monster. Frankenstein's Monster. He's real. I shot him, Mac. Three slugs, centre of mass and he didn't even blink. He threw me aside like I was a rag doll, like I was nothing. I was Golden Gloves Champ of South Boston and I was nothing to him. Find him, Mac. Stop him. Somehow, stop him..." Simms voice trailed off as he passed out again.

...

_Katerina's Home_

Bette pulled into Katerina's driveway and slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt. Rushing to the front door, she barged in without bothering to knock and called out, "Eve! Are you here? Eve?" She saw Marcus and Katerina emerge from the kitchen. "Guys, please tell me Eve is here somewhere."

"Not yet," Katerina answered. "She's a little bit late but not enough to be worried about. She may simply have gotten caught in heavy traffic."

"Traffic's fine."Bette retorted. "And there's plenty to be worried about. Campus Police just found her car behind the AV Building and apparently there were signs of some sort of scuffle."

Marcus let out a low growl. "It's begun," he said. "Frankenstein has made his move." He headed for the door.

"Stop right there Marcus," Katerina commanded. "The Full Moon is at it's peak tonight and it rises in just over two hours. The Wolf Man will be at his strongest and most savage. If you are out there when that happens people _will_ die."

"And if anything's happened to Eve, Konrad Frankenstein will be one of them," was all Marcus said slamming the door behind him.

...

Moving at a fast trot, it didn't take him long to find Eve's abandoned vehicle. He was, however, surprised to see who else was nosing around the site. "Inspector Garvey, I didn't expect to see you here." The next thing Marcus knew, he was backed up against the wall with a forearm across his throat and Garvey's gun in his face.

"Where is it you sonofabitch!" Garvey nearly screamed at him.

"Huh? What?" was the most coherent answer Marcus could come up with.

Garvey clarified, "That _thing_ you've been hunting for the last four years just put my partner in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Now. Where. Is. It?" He cocked the hammer on his gun.

"I don't know where he is yet, but I can track him," Marcus answered, looking him in the eye. "You're nowhere near equipped for this Garvey. That gun is as useless against him as it is against me. Go to Katerina, tell her everything. Tell her I said it's time for the truth." He held one hand up where Garvey could see it. The detective's eyes bugged out as he saw the flesh ripple and shift from human to... something else and back again. "She'll help prepare you. Hopefully you'll be able to find us in time."

Garvey just looked dumbfounded and nodded, holstering his weapon and backing away. Marcus began casting around the car, sniffing, seeking one particular scent. Finding it he loped off, bending low every so often to confirm the trail.

...

_Carlton Home_

Richard Carlton had been brooding for most of the day. Despite Marcus's reassurances during the week he wasn't entirely certain that he hadn't irreparably damaged his relationship with Eve by his revelation and confession the previous weekend. One thing he was certain of though, was that whatever damage had been done he desperately wanted to make things right with his daughter.

His musings were interrupted by a loud rumble from his abdomen, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Putting his ruminations on hold for the moment he headed to the kitchen to see what kind of leftovers he could put together. He wasn't even halfway there when the doorbell started ringing and refused to stop.

Approaching the door he called out, "All right, I'm coming. No need to wear out the damn bell." Pulling it open he beheld Konrad Frankenstein wearing what could best be described as a predatory smile. "I'm sorry, but I'm in no mood for company _Doctor_ Frankenstein. I'm not exactly having a good day, so if you'll excuse me..."

Frankenstein interrupted, "Oh, your day's going to get much worse Doctor Carlton, I assure you." He pushed past and casually sauntered down the hall to the study. "Of course you will also have a chance to make the greatest contribution to medical science in history."

"What are you talking about Frankenstein?" Any response was cut short by the ringing of the phone on the study desk. He answered it, "Carlton here... What? There must be some mistake... Do I need to come to the station? I see... Please keep me posted. Thank you." He slumped into his chair and buried his face in his hands. "Eve," he breathed.

"Let me guess," Frankenstein smirked, "your daughter is missing." He slid something across the desk to Carlton.

Carlton recognized it as soon as he picked it up, "Eve's cell phone. If you've done anything to her..."

"Open it," Frankenstein interrupted him.

The screen displayed a photograph of a furious Eve glaring at the camera while being held immobile by a giant that could only be the legendary Frankenstein Monster. "So long as you do exactly as I tell you, she will live," Frankenstein declared coldly. "If what I am attempting to do should fail for _any_ reason whatsoever, she will die. It really is that simple Doctor Carlton."

"What do you want from me?' Carlton asked, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Merely the skill of your hands, Doctor."

...

_Konrad Frankenstein's Farm_

Through a small chink in the wall of her makeshift cell Eve watched as Frankenstein's car pulled out and turned down the road. She waited until it was out of sight before calling out to her captor, "Hey! Big guy! Are you out there? I want to talk to you!" She listened at the door for a moment. Hearing nothing, she started pounding on it as well. "I know you can hear me! Stop ignoring me and get your oversized ass in here right now! I just want to talk to you!"

A creak on the floorboards was the only warning she got before the door opened and the gigantic form of the Monster eclipsed the light spilling through. Eve took a calming breath, "I'm sorry I was so obnoxious, but I really wanted to talk with you and know you're listening to me. It's kind of hard to do that through a door."

She sat down on an upturned crate, fidgeting a little. "Is there something a little more comfortable to sit on out there? I promise I won't try to run or anything like that. I really do want to talk with you."

"You... are not... afraid of me?"

"Why should I be?" Eve asked. "You and I have more in common than you know."

The Monster stepped aside and she followed him out of the room into a well equipped surgical laboratory. "Well I guess it's pretty obvious what Konrad is up to with this kind of set-up." She hopped onto the large worktable in the centre of the room and sat cross-legged facing her giant companion. "So what exactly is it you need me for? Is Konrad trying to force my dad to help him with something?"

The Monster remained silent. Eve continued, "What do I call you anyway? Did anyone ever even bother to give you a name?" He shook his massive head sadly. "Well then we'll have to rectify that, won't we? In the Bible the first man that God created was named Adam. You're the first man that Frankenstein created, so I'm going to call you Adam. Is that all right with you?"

The expression on his face remained unreadable. Then his lip started to quiver, almost like he was crying. "Adam," he repeated. "My name is... Adam."

"And my name is Eve," she introduced herself. "So, Adam, will you please tell me what it is that Konrad wants my father to do?"

The Monster – Adam – nodded and walked over to the cold storage unit. Opening it he beckoned Eve over to see. Sliding off the table she joined him and looked inside. "Oh my God. He's really going to do it," she whispered.

"My bride," Adam proclaimed proudly. "But she's not... finished." He reached in and picked up a container with two small, round objects floating in it.

"Her eyes," Eve realized. "So that's it. Konrad needs my father to install her eyes."

"And brain," Adam added.

Eve looked in the unit again. "I don't see a jar with a brain in there. Does Konrad even have one yet?" Adam nodded. "Then where is it?" she asked.

"Here," he gently touched her temple.

"My brain?" A look of horror crossed her face. "He wants to put my brain in... in her?" Adam nodded in reply. "Well that's just not gonna happen," she exclaimed. "It may not be original equipment, but I'm very attached to it and I like it right where it is." She took a calming breath and continued, "You don't have to do this Adam."

He tried to explain, "I am... alone. There are... no others like... me. I... need her."

Eve actually smiled. "You're wrong Adam," she told him. "You're not alone. There is another like you." She turned away from him and looked down, pulling her hair aside to reveal the terminals attached to the base of her skull. She heard his breath catch in his throat as he realized what he was looking at. Letting her hair fall, she turned around and looked him in the eye. "I am like you Adam. My father built me from spare parts and brought me to life." She resumed her seat on the worktable.

"How?" Adam wondered.

"He has the Frankenstein Journals," she answered. "He's been studying them for decades. All of his work, all of the medical advances he's made have been based on them. On you. The things he's learned from those books have helped people all over the world. That's the real legacy of Frankenstein, life and health for thousands upon thousands of people. Heinrich's work has been validated and the mistakes of his life redeemed, by my father."

Adam smiled, "So you are my... Bride."

Eve smiled back and chuckled quietly. "No Adam, I'm not your bride," she told him gently. "I am my own woman with my own mind and I decide who I will be with. We may have different fathers, you – Frankenstein, me – Carlton, but we have the same mother."

"I have no... mother."

"Yes you do Adam, and so do I. Lightning is our mother and that makes us siblings." She placed her hand over his heart, "Brother," she held his hand over her own heart, "and sister. Family. We are family and family is forever, Adam."

Tears glistened in his eyes. "Family," he whispered. "Brother, sister... family." He scooped her up into a gigantic hug and twirled around the floor. ""Family!" he cried out with a huge smile on his face.

...

_Katerina's Home_

Garvey hesitated before knocking on the door. As much as he wanted answers to his many questions, he was certain he would not like those answers. Shoving his doubts aside he raised his hand and knocked with all the authority he could muster. Katerina answered a moment later. "Inspector. Come in please, I've been expecting you."

He stepped over the threshold. "Is that some sort of Romany precognition thing?"

She smiled, "No Inspector. When I gave you my name last week, you blinked. You obviously know something about my people. I was expecting you to pay me a visit sooner or later. Unfortunately, now is not a very good time."

"I just left Marcus Talbot," He told her. "He said to tell me everything, that it was time for the truth."

"Very well Inspector. We have an urgent situation right now, so I will have to give you an abridged version and hope we're still alive to give you the full story in the morning."

...

_Frankenstein's Laboratory_

"I think you'll be impressed with what I have accomplished here Doctor Carlton," Frankenstein was saying as he guided his reluctant companion into the lab. "After all, most of it was based on your own published works. I've just expanded the scope somewhat."

Carlton walked a slow circuit of the laboratory, inspecting machinery and equipment as he did. "You're certainly well equipped Frankenstein," he commented stopping before the large cold storage unit. "Dare I ask what you have in here?"

"See for yourself, Doctor."

After a few minutes of examining the body within, Carlton held up the jar with the eyes. "These certainly look viable. I'll have to make a more detailed examination of course. I assume that's what you want me to do, install these."

"Those and the brain, Doctor," Frankenstein told him.

Carlton gestured at the storage unit, "There's no brain in here."

"I have acquired a body with a suitable brain. While you prepare for the surgery I will harvest the organ. Then you can get to work transplanting the eyes and brain into my creation there."

"You really have no idea of the complexities involved, do you?" Carlton was flabbergasted. "Yes, I have performed a successful eye transplant, but this is not like plugging a web cam into a computer. Attaching the optic nerve took nearly ten hours, and that's not even taking into account all of the detailed MRI's and neural mapping that had to be done prior to surgery. That process took over a month to complete. That's for _one_ eye. The brain is far more complex and would require even more intensive work. You don't have anywhere near the specialized equipment I need to do that."

"And yet Heinrich Frankenstein did exactly that for my large friend here over a century ago in a makeshift laboratory with near stone-age tools and materials. I think you'll be able to cope Doctor. After all, your daughter's life depends on it." Carlton barely repressed a shudder as the Monster emerged from a side room. "Speaking of whom," Frankenstein looked over to the Monster, "Is she... comfortable?" The Monster nodded.

"I want to see my daughter before I do anything," Carlton insisted.

"Soon enough Doctor Carlton. You will hold her life in your hands, literally."

"What he's not saying, Dad, is that he wants you to put my brain into the body of that homemade hooker he's got in the freezer." Eve stepped out from behind Adam. "But I think you, me, and Adam here," she gave the giant beside her a familial hug, "have him outvoted on that topic."

Frankenstein exploded, "You lumbering fool! You were supposed to keep her confined until I could harvest her brain!"

Adam held one arm protectively in front of Eve, "You will... not hurt her... Frankenstein."

"Eve," Carlton asked, "what's going on?"

"Adam and I had a long talk while waiting for Konrad to come back with you," she explained.

"_Adam_," Frankenstein sneered, "you stick a ridiculously cliched name on it and expect it to follow you around like a grateful puppy? Wake up girl. That thing is a _Monster_ and it always will be."

Adam growled. "And now he knows exactly what you think of him," Eve smiled. "And for your information, I gave him more than just a name. I gave him respect, love, and a family. Things he's never had before, things that mean far more to him than empty promises."

Carlton's eyes narrowed, "Eve, what have you done?"

"Accepted the truth of who and what I am, Dad," she told him. "And I've been getting to know my big brother." She smiled up at Adam. He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled back.

"You're delusional," Frankenstein snapped. "That's the only explanation."

Eve rolled her eyes. "You really are obtuse. What did you expect if you brought that to life? A Nobel Prize? Never gonna happen. The World only cares about First place, not Second or Third, and definitely not Fourth." she pointed to the cold storage unit.

Frankenstein looked confused. "You still don't get it, do you?" Carlton cut in. "What my daughter is trying to say is that I have been studying and using the Frankenstein Journals for _decades_."

Frankenstein turned several shades of red and purple in a wordless rage. "And he used them to their fullest extent," Eve said as she opened her blouse, revealing the scars that covered her torso. Three large ones in particular stood out. A straight line starting at each shoulder and descending in a steep V extending under her bra and meeting between her breasts and then extending straight down her abdomen where it vanished under the waistband of her jeans. Frankenstein just stood and stared at the sight. "That's right moron," she taunted him, "that's an autopsy scar."

"Eve first came to life five years ago," Carlton added with a touch of fatherly pride in his voice. "She is living proof that Heinrich Frankenstein's theories were correct. I used his techniques with some modern refinements and considerably more care and caution in the assembly. The result is a daughter that any father would be proud of."

"So you succeeded where so many of my ancestors have failed." Frankenstein's voice took on an air of quiet menace. "I won't let you reap the glory and recognition for this achievement, recognition that should rightfully be mine."

"Haven't you been listening?" Eve was sounding exasperated. "He didn't create me for glory or renown. No one was ever supposed to know the truth of my origin, including me. I exist because my father didn't want to be alone anymore."

"That's enough," came a voice from the loft. An athletic form leapt down and landed gracefully between Eve and Frankenstein. Recognition came quickly to those assembled, with varying reactions from each.

Eve was surprised and worried, "Marcus! What are you doing here?"

Frankenstein was shocked,"Talbot! But how? I shot you with a silver bullet."

Adam merely acknowledged, "Wolf Man."

Marcus answered Eve first, "Looking for you." He looked down at the view provided by her still open blouse and smiled. She felt a warm thrill as she realized he was looking at her and not her scars. Silently she mouthed _Later_ and smiled back.

He spared a wary glance at Adam before turning his attention to Frankenstein. "For the record Doctor, while silver can _hurt_ a werewolf, it does not automatically _kill_ one. You still have to inflict a fatal injury."

"You just happen to be a suck shot," Eve added while buttoning up her blouse. She paused as something occurred to her. "Marcus, the time..."

"I know," he said. "The moon will be up in a few minutes." He turned to Carlton, "Richard, you have to get her out of here, right now."

Carlton nodded in agreement, "No arguments Eve. We have to go."

"Dad, no. I have to..."

"Nobody's going anywhere!" Frankenstein roared, brandishing a pistol he had produced from somewhere on his person and firing it.

Time seemed to slow down as several things happened at once. Adam pulled Eve back and placed himself in the line of fire. At the same time Marcus tackled Carlton to the ground. As Marcus picked himself up off Carlton's prone form he saw the blood-stain on the older man's jacket. Strangely the stain didn't seem to be spreading. Instead the blood seemed to be dripping onto it from somewhere. Looking down, he realized that it was coming from a large bullet hole in his own chest.

Time resumed its normal flow. Marcus scrambled backwards, his eyes gleaming gold as the change began. "Run," he growled. Carlton quickly got to his feet and began edging to the door, looking around for Eve as he did so.

Eve struggled to break free from Adam's protective grasp. "No," he told her, "Dangerous."

"Not to me," she informed him. "Let me go Adam, I can help. Please trust me." The giant reluctantly opened his arms and Eve ran to Marcus, skidding to a stop on her knees in front of him. Gently placing her hands on either side of his head, she lifted his face up to hers. As she watched, his features stopped shifting and he was fully the Wolf Man. His eyes softened on seeing her and he let out a small whine of pleasure as he gripped her wrist and nuzzled her hand. Everyone stood in silent awe of the sight.

"Marcus," she said softly, "I know it hurts." She held up one finger in front of the Wolf Man's face. She slowly moved it to the side and he followed the motion. "The man who hurt you is there." He looked in the direction that she ended up pointing and saw Frankenstein. Eve whispered in the werewolf's ear, "Sic him."

With a bestial snarl the Wolf Man pounced. Frankenstein almost mechanically raised the gun and fired at the charging werewolf. He might as well have launched spitballs through a drinking straw for all the effect the bullets had. The Beast smashed him back into one of the gas heaters that had been installed in the old barn with enough force to knock the heavy unit off its base and tore into him with savage fury.

As the thing that had been Marcus leapt away from her, Eve whispered to herself, "God forgive me." She was shaken out of her reverie by her father taking her by the arm.

"We have to get out of here Eve," Carlton told her. She nodded dumbly and got to her feet. They started moving quickly and quietly towards the door. They were only about halfway there when a menacing growl stopped them in their tracks. Turning around they saw the Wolf Man advancing on them, his claws and teeth dripping blood.

"Oh God," Eve gasped. "Bloodlust." The Wolf Man charged them. She closed her eyes and waited for the end.

When it didn't come she opened her eyes in amazement. Adam had the struggling werewolf by the back of its neck and one wrist. He went into a kind of airplane spin and _threw_ the Beast up through the low ceiling and into the loft. He then tucked Eve and Carlton under each of his arms and carried them outside. Dropping them unceremoniously on the ground he pointed at Frankenstein's car and said, "Go! You live!" Then he slammed and barred the door, sealing himself inside with the enraged werewolf.

Turning around he saw the Beast drop from the loft and glare at him. He pointed at it. "You stay." The two circled each other warily for a moment, sizing each other up, looking for any weakness. At almost the same instant, with no warning the Frankenstein Monster and the Wolf Man charged at each other. Neither monster noticed the broken gas line hidden by the battered and bloody form of Konrad Frankenstein.

...

Carlton had to physically pull Eve away from the barn doors. Inside the sounds of battle raged mixed with growls and cries of fury and pain as the two nearly unstoppable monsters fought each other. "Listen to them Eve," he told her. "Anyone who goes in there is only going to get killed. There's nothing more you can do sweetheart." He held her close and cradled her head on his shoulder.

"I wanted to try and save them both Dad," she sobbed. "But now, no matter who wins, I lose a part of myself."

A glare of headlights coming up the driveway distracted them momentarily. An unmarked Police car pulled up, Garvey and Katerina emerging as soon as the engine died.

...

The barn's interior was a shambles with equipment overturned and smashed, new walls broken down, and some support columns cracked. Adam watched as the Wolf Man dragged himself out from under the debris left when part of the loft collapsed on him. The Beast yelped in pain as it tried to stand on an obviously broken leg. Adam took advantage of the lull in the battle to take stock of his own injuries. Most were cuts and claw slashes of varying depth. Those would heal, if he got out of here alive that is. More worrisome was the area on his side where a number of rib bones were visible, a large section of flesh having been torn away. Looking back at his adversary, he saw the werewolf's leg straighten and heal itself and he felt the first stirrings of an emotion he seldom experienced for himself – fear.

As he watched, the Wolf Man swayed drunkenly and started batting at something in front of his face, as if trying to catch an annoying fly. At about the same time Adam realized there were an increasing number of black spots swimming in his vision. Then he recognized the smell in the air and came to a decision.

Moving quickly while the werewolf was still feeling the effects of hypoxia, he found a power cable connected to one of the various machines in the lab. Grasping the cable firmly he snarled at the Wolf Man, "We belong dead!" And he yanked the cable out of its junction box. As it pulled free an electrical spark arced between the wires and ignited the gas laden atmosphere inside the barn.

...

Eve and Carlton had just turned towards the newcomers when a deafening thunderclap shook the world and a searing heat wave passed over them all. Eve felt as if some mythical giant had picked her up bodily and slammed her into the front windshield of Frankenstein's car. Rolling off the hood, she shakily got to her feet and looked to where the barn had been replaced with a roiling fireball. Screaming, "Noooooo!" at the top of her lungs she collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

As the onlookers watched the crumbling cliff side collapsed from the tremendous shockwave and the entire structure tumbled into the sea below.

...

_Epilogue_

_Boston, Massachusetts_

_Four Months Later_

A tall,well dressed woman entered her hotel room with an air of weariness, as if she had been waging battle in the boardroom all day. Throwing her tote on the suite's table, a number of catalogues and brochures for Boston area auction houses scattered across the surface. Kicking off her shoes, she moved to the nightstand by the bed and picked up the phone. "Hello, room service? This is room Four – Twelve... Yes, that's right. I would like my usual order please... Thank you very much." Hanging up she dialled an outside number.

"It's Marta... I'm in Boston. I tracked Gillespie to this region. He immigrated here in the Nineteen Forties... Yes, I'm certain he had the journals with him. When he died in the Eighties his possessions were auctioned off... I found the auctioneer who handled the sale. According to him the chest with the journals was purchased by a young doctor from Seacrest... It's a college town about an hour and a half down the coast... I have a few loose ends to tie up here and then I'll be heading to Seacrest to locate this doctor... Of course I'll keep you apprised of my progress. Good evening."

As she hung up the phone a knock sounded at the door. "Room service," a muffled voice called through. Marta opened the door and invited the waiter in. He handed her the receipt. "Just sign here please Miss."

"Actually it's Professor," she told him as she signed and handed the slip back. "Professor van Helsing."


End file.
